Shades of Grey
by CreativeQuill
Summary: [COMPLETE] What secrets does Petunia Dursley have, and what will Dumbledore do when Harry turns seventeen, and he can no longer be told that he must stay in the Dursley household? And where do his feelings for Ginny fit in?
1. Chapter One: Aunt Petunia's Secret

_Greetings, fellow travellers! I am so pleased to be back!_

_As promised, I have another fic... I hope you all enjoy it. Please let me know how you feel by hitting that little box in the corner and leaving your comments – reviews feed my muse. Well, that and the big jar of wasabi peas I keep on my desk._

_As for the other – I'm not JKR, never have been, never will be, and thank goodness, because I've heard she's pregnant again. However, I do think she's an amazingly talented author, and she has an imagination that I envy. A lot. I also envy the fact that she's rich and beautiful... but that's besides the point. I own nothing – just an odd sense of humor, and a love of playing in this little world she's created. Anything you recognize is hers, anything you don't is probably hers, as well, but might be mine._

_Welcome back – I've missed you all._

_CQ_

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Chapter One: Aunt Petunia's Secret

"_Aunt Petunia_?" Harry's eyes were wide and his voice raised in disbelief. "You're joking?"

"Harry, your Aunt Petunia..." Dumbledore seemed to be having difficulty finding the appropriate words. Harry wasn't about to give him the time to do so. He had too many questions, and was having far too much difficulty believing what he was hearing.

"You're telling me she's a Squib? But for that, my grandparents would have had to have been...."

"Your grandparents were not wizards, and your Aunt Petunia is _not _a Squib, Harry." Dumbledore's voice was calm and steady. "You've wondered why I insisted that you return to her home each year..."

"You told me it was because of my mother... it had to be a blood relative..." Harry was confused. He'd never questioned Dumbledore on this. Not really. He'd certainly questioned it in his own mind, but he would never dream of questioning the wisdom of Dumbledore's counsel directly. That was just stupid. Dumbledore was the greatest wizard alive, and Harry had every faith in him. Well, generally.

"Yes, but it would have been of no use whatsoever if that blood relative were a Muggle, Harry."

"My grandparents were Muggles..." Harry tried to remember what he knew about his mother's, and Aunt Petunia's, parents. Not much. It was strange... he'd never even thought to question anyone about his grandparents. Perhaps because he'd been taught from a _very_ early age to not question anything to do with Aunt Petunia's family.

"No, Harry. David and Rebecca Evans were most definitely _not _Muggles."

Harry was still. What on earth was Dumbledore saying? "If they weren't wizards, and they weren't Muggles, what were they?"

"Harry," Dumbledore sighed deeply. He had known that this day would come, when he had to explain Harry's family to him. Petunia Dursley certainly hadn't... nor would she. "Your grandparents were friends of our cause. They knew full well the effects of the dark side of magic. Both were raised in wizard homes and both lost their parents to those who practice the Dark Arts. Both of your grandparents were Squibs, Harry; non-magical children of wizarding families, and many times I have thanked the Light that they were. They provided sanctuary for many, and were always helpful, in their quiet way, while living in the Muggle world."

"Like Mrs Figg?" Harry whispered, remembering the slightly batty babysitter who the Dursley's had left him with regularly, her many cats and her cabbage-scented living room. The detested babysitter who had turned out to be a Squib, and who had stood next to him after fighting off the Dementors that had attacked Little Whinging.

"Like Mrs Figg," Dumbledore confirmed with a nod. "There are many Squibs in our world, Harry, people born of our world, raised in our world, yet unable to practice magic. You didn't think every child from a Wizarding family came to Hogwarts, did you?"

"Of course not...." Harry remembered Stan Shunpike, not that much older than him, but working the Knight Bus. Certainly he would have been of an age to have been at Hogwarts when Harry first arrived, yet he hadn't been.

"Only the most talented, the most promising, are selected for a Hogwarts education, Harry. Certainly there are other schools, but most are for those of the Wizarding world who will eventually become the Stan Shunpike's and Madam Rosmerta's. There are schools, as well, for the Squibs. They are taught how to function, and be happy, in a world that does not cater to them. Much like the special schools in the Muggle world for those with special needs. It was at one such school that your grandparents met. When they produced three daughters...."

"Three? No... there was only my mother and Aunt Petunia."

"No, Harry... but we shall get to that." Dumbledore sighed again.

"But if my Aunt Petunia isn't a Squib, and she's not a Muggle, what is she?" Harry was confused. Nothing Dumbledore was saying made sense to him.

"Your Aunt is what is referred to as an Abiciludum, sometimes called a Lud."

"A Lud? I've never heard of that."

"I'm not surprised, Harry. They are very rare, and I'm certain you would never have heard the term used in the Dursley household." He said this without inflection, but with a raised eyebrow that made Harry smile. The mere thought of hearing any of the Dursley's use magical terminology, other than the occasional "disappear!" shouted at Harry, was amusing, to say the least.

"What does it mean?"

"It means, Harry, one with the gift of magical power, who has turned their back on the wizarding world, and not taken training to control or utilize their gift."

"You're telling me that Aunt Petunia... she's a... Aunt Petunia?" Harry was nearly speechless. How could his magic-hating aunt, the one who had sat back and allowed others to speak ill of her own sister, who had treated her own nephew as an unpaid and unwelcome servant in her home... how could she possibly have been born into this world, this world that Harry knew instinctively, had known from the moment Hagrid explained it to him on his eleventh birthday, was his true home?

"Petunia Evans came to Hogwarts two years before your mother, Harry, and left after three weeks."

"But, why?"

"Because, Harry, she and her twin sister were separated at the sorting, into different houses. They had never been separated, Petunia was very protective of Daisy... and when Daisy passed from this world, Petunia blamed herself... and the house she had been sorted into. And me."

"Daisy? Aunt Petunia had a twin?"

"Yes. Daisy... died... two weeks into her first term here."

"How?" Harry's sharp ears, and eyes, had caught the hesitation in Dumbledore's voice, and correctly guessed that this was a detail that Dumbledore didn't much care to share.

Dumbledore looked steadily at him, watching closely as he responded. "The forbidden forest. She had gone there on a dare, apparently. Someone in Petunia's house had been mocking the Gryffindor bravery."

"And Aunt Petunia?"

"She spent a week with Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing, trying to come to terms with her loss. Then she packed her bags... and left."

"And my mother?" Harry responded weakly.

"Your mother arrived at Hogwarts two years later, determined to prove what Daisy had failed to, that Gryffindor House members were brave, and true, and loyal, and determined. Our Miss Granger reminds me of her a great deal."

Harry nodded, "So the reason that I have to return to the Dursley's again this year is because Aunt Petunia, whether she knows it or not, is a... has magic of her own, and you're hoping she'll use it to protect me?"

"Do you not believe that she would?" Dumbledore asked evasively, his old eyes twinkling.

"No, professor, I don't," Harry said quietly. "I think, in this case, you might be wrong."

"That, Harry, is certainly possible. It wouldn't be the first time, I assure you. However, your Aunt Petunia's status as a Lud is not the only reason. I have, of course, explained to you in past why you must spend some time each year with a blood relative, your mother's blood protects you. But that, too, is not all."

"What else is there?"

"Harry, those of us who have had to work through difficulty are invariably stronger for it. I believe there is a Muggle saying that sums it up quite well: _That which does not kill us makes us stronger_. You, Harry, will face things in life that wizards many times your age would never dream of having to face, or be prepared for. I made a promise, a vow, if you like. I promised that you would be ready to face, and defeat, the worst threat of our time. Not just to do it, but to survive it. That is key, Harry. You must survive. It doesn't matter if you merely defeat Lord Voldemort. You must defeat him, destroy him, and survive. If you do not, our world will crumble, and quite likely the world of the Muggles, as well. Your survival is key."

"Professor," Harry swallowed, fighting back the well of emotion threatening to overflow. He clenched his teeth to avoid shouting, and kept his voice low and calm. "Forgive me, but haven't I gotten quite strong enough? I've faced Voldemort five times! In all honesty, there isn't a wizard alive who has done that, much less done it and survived. With all due respect, sir, who do you think you are to decide whether I am strong enough or not?"

"You must have every last ounce of strength you can lay hands on, Harry Potter. You have faced Voldemort, yes. But you have not yet defeated him. He may well prove impossible to kill, Harry, much less kill without allowing yourself to be taken with him. As to who I am," Dumbledore said with a resigned sigh, "I am the Headmaster who was unlucky enough to be the one who the fates decided to have in place at Hogwarts during your time of training here, and, of course, to some, I may be the only wizard alive who has any concept of what you face. I, myself, defeated a terrible Dark Lord in my time. Grindelwald was not an easy adversary, Harry. I do not know if that was in preparation for this, but I do know that I am the only one who has any concept of the weapons you will need. I do not question my duty, Harry, I merely answer to it. If there is anything that I can do to sway things in your favor, in _our_ favor, then I shall do it. Do not think that I do not feel for you. If there were any way to achieve the ends that must be achieved, and spare you your month at the residence of Mr and Mrs Vernon Dursley, not to mention their rather unpleasant offspring, I would. Unfortunately, this is the path presented to us. We must follow it."

"I am seventeen this year, Professor."

"Yes." Dumbledore agreed, the twinkle in his eye showing he knew what Harry was about to say.

"As of July thirty first, my birthday, I will no longer be considered an 'underage wizard'." Harry spat out the words. He had done more "underage wizarding" than most, and the term annoyed him. The fact that he was banned from using magic outside school until he came of age, to him, seemed ridiculous, considering the past six years of his life. The Ministry didn't seem too concerned about his performing magic outside of school when it involved the Dark Lord or his minions, but drop a pudding in a Muggle household during summer holidays, and within fifteen minutes you were getting warnings of expulsion should it happen again.

"No, you are correct. Which is why I intend to have you out of the Dursley household well before your birthday, Harry. I am under no misapprehension of what might be the fate of one Dudley Dursley should I leave you there any longer than that."

This last was said with a rather lopsided smile, as though Dumbledore himself had considered what fate would hold for Harry's cousin Dudley.

"I will go back, because you ask it of me. I'll stay for the month. But no longer." Harry stood.

"I'm sorry, Harry. This is simply the way that it must be."

"I understand, Professor. I may not like it, but I do understand."

"I rather thought you would, Mr Potter." Dumbledore smiled again as he watched Harry retreat to the door of his office. The skinny boy who had shown up here armed with nothing but a new wand, a new owl, and very ill-fitting clothes five years ago had certainly changed.

"Professor..." Harry hesitated at the door, turning to look at the Headmaster.

"Yes, Harry?"

"My mother was a Gryffindor."

"Yes. She was. That is where she met James. You are very much their son, Harry." Dumbledore smiled, remembering James Potter. Harry was more like him than anyone really knew. Dumbledore had seen glimpses of the man he would become, and although his eventual fate was hidden from the aging wizard, Dumbledore saw many of James' qualities in Harry, tempered with Lily's overwhelming need to fix, to help, to share. The Headmaster was not quite sure yet whether this was a good thing, but it certainly seemed to have worked itself out up until now.

"And my Aunt Daisy... she was in Gryffindor, as well," Harry's voice brought Dumbledore back to the present.

"Yes, she was." Dumbledore was still, his eyes resting on Harry's face, watching carefully.

"Then if my Aunt Petunia was sorted into a different house, which house was it?"

Dumbledore smiled without humor, almost sadly, as he responded.

"Slytherin, Harry."

Harry nodded, and without another word, he turned and left Dumbledore's office.

"But sometimes," Dumbledore spoke to himself after watching the door close behind the boy, "Sometimes I wonder if our Sorting Hat isn't as human as the rest of us when it comes to making mistakes."

* * *

Harry strode through the stone hallways, heading towards Gryffindor tower. Ron and Hermione were waiting, and he needed to collect his things for his return to the Dursley's. Sixth year was over, and all he could do now was try to get through the month until he could leave his aunt's home for good, preferably without doing anything to get himself tossed out of Hogwarts... or _into _Azkaban.

Approaching the painting that hid the doorway into the Gryffindor tower, he snapped, "Quidditch!" and the fat lady, who had been tempted to snap back until she took a look at his face, slid aside to allow him in.

"Hermione! He's back!" Ron stood from the couch in the corner of the common room closest to the stairs to the girl's dormitories. "Well? Did you speak to Dumbledore?"

"Yes," Harry replied shortly, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace which, for the first time all year, was cold. There would be few fires in the school today. It was approaching forty degrees celsius, uncommonly hot, and tomorrow all students would be leaving for the summer break.

"Well?" Ron urged. "What did he say?"

"He said 'no'." Harry replied.

"What? He can't have! He just can't have!"

"I assure you, Ron, he can. And he did," Harry replied shortly.

"I'm sure he had his reasons, Harry," Hermione said from the foot of the stairs. He hadn't even noticed her there. "Dumbledore...."

"Yes, Hermione, he has his reasons. It doesn't mean I have to like them, does it?" Harry sat down suddenly, his head in his hands. A moment later, he felt a hand on his back and Hermione's slight weight depress the couch next to him, and a bounce as Ron's significantly larger weight was thrown down on his other side.

"Why on earth...." Hermione started.

"He told me. He needs me to be with my aunt, at least for a month. It needs to be that way. She's a Lud." He stared straight ahead, into the cold fireplace, seemingly without seeing a thing.

Hermione's hand stilled on his back, and Ron gasped, "You're _not _serious!"

"Oh, Harry..." Hermione whispered. "That makes everything make so much more sense!"

"Does it? Not to me." Harry shook his head. "I could care less what she is. She's horrible. The things she lets Uncle Vernon and his family say about my parents... and all the while making out it's because they had magic... when she's just the same as they were. Worse."

"But Harry, that's why! She's obviously in stasis..."

"What?" Harry and Ron both said at once, looking at Hermione, totally unsure of exactly what she was talking about.

"Stasis! Honestly, don't either of you read _at all_?" Hermione stood and began pacing in front of them. "When Luds, or Abiciludum, deny their true selves, they can get away with it for a while... sometimes years, but most end up going through... well, I guess the best way to describe it is a kind of nervous breakdown. They deny everything that they know to be true, and insist on living life within very firm, strict boundaries... oh, why didn't I see this before now?"

Harry shook his head, wonderingly. He couldn't think of a handful of times this past year that Hermione _hadn't_ had her nose in a book, and here she was questioning why she hadn't figured _this_ out?

"And your cousin!" Hermione stopped suddenly, turning and staring, shocked, at Harry.

"Dudley? What's this got to do with him?"

"That's why she dotes on him so, Harry! He's all she's got to prove that she's leading a 'normal' life! She wants to act as though the magical world doesn't exist, and she's simply a suburban homemaker with a child to raise. Raising Dudley has become her lifeline to what she considers normal, and the harder it is to hold onto, the more she pampers and dotes on him, and denies you! It's classic psychology! The more difficult you are to ignore, to put down, to diminish, the harder she tries to do just that."

"You're trying to tell me that she really does love me, but can't admit it because it would somehow make her world... what..." Harry searched for an appropriate word.

"Invalid," claimed Hermione. "Not what she believes, and needs, it to be."

"Barking," stated Ron, staring hard at their bushy-haired friend. "You, Hermione, are absolutely barking mad. How long have we known Harry? His aunt and uncle detest him."

"I would bet they don't, not really, Ron. At least not his aunt."

"Then you would lose, Hermione. Big," Ron scoffed. "You weren't there the night that Fred and George and I rescued him before second year. They had him locked up with bars on the windows of his room. His uncle came in before we could get him out of there, and I'm telling you, the look on his face, that was hatred."

"Well, whatever it was, I have to go back. At least for a month." Harry stated after a moment of silence. "After that, maybe I'll stay at the Leaky Cauldron for a while..."

"Not bloody likely, mate!" Ron snorted. "The minute my mum knows you're able to come, you'll be at the Burrow."

"Ron, I can't always rely on your parents to..."

"Damn right you can," Ron interrupted him. "Mum's already talking about putting your name on the family clock. Besides... you've gotten a Weasley sweater every year since we met, and you actually wear them. That ought to count for something."


	2. Chapter Two: The Month

Chapter Two: The Month

The train from Hogwarts due in to Kings Cross Station at four o'clock on platform 9 ¾ was exactly on time. There were parents waiting on the platform, but of course, many were not. Only witches and wizards were able to access the platform. Those who had Muggle parents, and even some who did not, would meet their families on the other side of the barrier. Too many people seeming to walk through walls would be... well... disconcerting, for anyone watching too closely.

Harry pushed his cart, carrying his luggage and Hedwig in her cage, through the barrier and was immediately pulled into a tight hug. Mrs Weasley was nearly crushing him with the strength of her embrace.

"Oh, Harry! I'm so glad you're back, safe and all!" she fussed. "Now, your uncle is across there waiting, so I won't keep you, but remember, we'll owl you as soon as Dumbledore says we may. Arthur will come to get you, or we'll send for you... well, you'll be coming to the Burrow, however we manage it. Go on now, chin up!"

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley. I'll send Hedwig..." At that moment, Harry caught sight of Uncle Vernon standing waiting for him. With a quick kiss to Mrs Weasley's cheek, and a determined look on his face, Harry went forward. Month or not, he had to get through it.

"Uncle Vernon," Harry nodded. "Thank you for coming for me."

"Boy, if those weird friends of yours are planning..."

"I'm sure they aren't planning a thing, Uncle Vernon. Now, I have everything, so perhaps we can leave?"

Uncle Vernon's lips thinned, the muscle under his left eye twitched, and he quickly turned and strode off, Harry following behind.

The drive to Little Whinging, then into Privet Drive was uneventful, and silent. This was strange, as in past years, Uncle Vernon had taken this opportunity to lay down ground rules for the summer, threaten endlessly, and generally end up by throwing out a few nasty verbal challenges by criticizing Harry's parentage, or the Weasley family, or both.

Harry had decided to ignore it, and was delighted that he didn't have to.

Their arrival at Privet Drive went largely ignored. Harry could hear several televisions in several rooms playing full blast, and Aunt Petunia in the kitchen, but he simply took his luggage and Hedwig's cage and headed up the stairs to his room. He found the door open, and the room, as usual, empty but for the plain cheap furnishings. The mattress on the bed, old and lumpy, was uncovered, and there was a thin film of dust on all the surfaces.

"Welcome home, Harry." Harry smiled to himself, then got busy unpacking. Why should this year be any different?

"Hey, scar-head! Dinner!" Harry heard Dudley yell from the bottom of the stairs. It was funny, but it didn't bother him in the least. As a matter of fact, he found himself smiling. Dudley would probably never change, but perhaps there was a reason for that, after all.

He entered the dining room to see Aunt Petunia placing a second bowl of roast potatoes on the table in front of Dudley. It looked as though Dudley had his own bowl of each of the dishes, placed in an arc around his plate, Dudley himself the centre-piece of the arrangement. Harry's eyes widened at the sight. Dudley had gained at least another fifty pounds since last fall. The chair he sat on was not one of the delicate wooden chairs that went with the dining set and that Aunt Petunia was so proud of, but was a reinforced bench, extra wide.

"Well, boy, sit down! Don't peer over us like that!" Uncle Vernon dug into the tray of roast beef in front of him. Harry, making a sudden decision, stepped behind his aunt and held her chair for her. He met her shocked eyes and smiled.

"Aunt Petunia?"

Her spine stiffened and she sat, allowing him to push in the chair for her, and then he took his own seat across from Dudley. At this point, he looked up to find both Dudley and Uncle Vernon staring at him. Uncle Vernon's face was a particularly unattractive shade of purple.

"What are they teaching you in that fancy school then? How to try to cover up what you really are? You're not fooling me, boy. You're trouble. Always have been. As Marge says, you can't hide lack of breeding!"

Harry ignored his uncle, and served himself. The dinner conversation revolved around Uncle Vernon's belief that he had been overlooked for a promotion at the drill manufacturers where he worked in favor of a female peer because she wore short skirts. Harry listened, for lack of anything else to do, and enjoyed his meal. If nothing else, Aunt Petunia was an excellent cook.

When he was done, he turned to Aunt Petunia.

"Thank you, Aunt, that was a wonderful dinner."

Aunt Petunia looked askance at him. Harry smiled inside. He'd manage to keep them guessing as to his true motives, at any rate.

"Get the table cleared, boy!" Roared Uncle Vernon.

Silently, Harry cleared the table, stacked the dishwasher and scrubbed the few pots that Aunt Petunia had left. This was turning out to be more fun than he had thought it would be.

* * *

Laying on his back in bed a week later, Harry smiled to himself. Aunt Petunia had been watching him carefully for days. He had continued to be helpful and considerate of her, and silently took the jibes thrown at him by Uncle Vernon and Dudley. The fact that he was now close to six feet tall, and wiry, but obviously muscular, had not escaped Dudley's notice, either. The only time that Dudley had the courage to say anything to him was either when Uncle Vernon was present, or his gang was. Dudley's gang wasn't, however, around much, as it was getting increasingly difficult for Dudley to leave the house. Getting through a doorway was becoming increasingly difficult, which was not something that Dudley was apparently eager to let his friends witness.

Aunt Petunia was different. Where she had always had a rapier tongue of her own, Harry could count the number of words he had heard her say since his return. The glint of suspicion was always there, of course. Years of conditioning didn't go away in a fortnight.

Rolling over and placing his glasses on the bedside table, he smiled again, and fell asleep.

He didn't appear to hear the door as it slid open a few inches, or see the woman standing there, watching him sleep before heading back down the hallway towards the kitchen. Petunia Dursley would not be resting well that night.

The next morning came sunny and bright. Harry groaned as he rolled over. He would be weeding the garden today... all day. He just knew it. He dressed quickly, then headed downstairs. The coffee percolator was on, and he could smell the rich scent as he descended the stairs. He entered the kitchen and stopped dead. His aunt sat at the table, her eyes trained on the doorway and a cup of coffee cradled in her hands.

"What are you up to?" She asked quietly.

"What do you mean?" Harry took a mug from the cupboard, poured himself a cup and moved to the table where he sat down opposite her.

"I don't know what it is. Yet. But I will."

Harry gave her a small smile, then looked down into his cup. "Let's just say that I understand you a lot better now. In a way I wasn't able to before."

Her eyes were full of panic now, and she stood quickly, her chair toppling behind her.

"How... how dare you! Get out of my home! Get out, _now_!"

"Aunt Petunia, you know I can't do that. And you know why I can't. I am perfectly content to live and let live in this household... for now. I will be leaving as soon as I possibly can, because I know my presence is distasteful to you. But I do need to stay here for the moment."

"I said, get out. I don't care... I don't care what that fool of a Headmaster believes, I don't care what your mother wanted, or what..."

"My mother never wanted me here, Aunt Petunia. We both know that, or she would not have made Sirius Black my godfather. However, as he is now dead, neither you nor I have any choice. I assure you that I'll try to make my visits as short and bearable as possible... so long as I can expect the same consideration."

"You don't have the power to..."

Harry's temper flared. This woman had no idea of what he had been through in the past six years, nor did she care, and that angered him beyond endurance.

"You have no idea of the power I have! You have no idea of who I am, or who I am destined to become! Let me tell you this, _Aunt_... I have faced _him_ every year from my first year at Hogwarts. And I know that you know who I'm talking about. I am his end... his defeat. I have faced him _five times_ and he has yet to come out the victor... _that_ is the power that I have, and I know you understand what that means, even if you deny it. My mother died for me to live, and that gives me power that you have no _concept_ of. As I said, I understand you better now. I understand that the choices we make, and the challenges we put forth, sometimes end in tragedy, and I am willing to put up with a certain amount of personal discomfort for your sake. But I will _not_ be pushed any further. I have made a promise to Dumbledore that I will try to keep the peace until I can leave _you_ in peace, but I am more powerful than you can imagine, and I have things that I must do. Staying a month of every year, here, is the least of my concerns."

With that, Harry stood and took his coffee upstairs with him, where he proceeded to remove his books from his trunk and study for the remainder of the morning.

At lunch, he went down to find three roast beef sandwiches on a plate and a thermos of coffee at his place at the table. Neither Dudley nor his aunt were anywhere to be found.

Harry spent the afternoon weeding the garden and writing letters to Hermione and Ron for Hedwig to deliver. He had set up his books and study materials in his room, and placed a hook in the ceiling to hang Hedwig's cage from. In the tiny room, every inch of space mattered, and Harry simply didn't have the desk space to spare. Hedwig would refuse to sleep in a cage on the floor.

In the late afternoon, he mowed the front lawn and trimmed the box hedges, and then retreated upstairs to clean himself up before dinner. In the shower, he thought of the look on his aunt's face as he had told her of his activities at school. She had seemed, for want of a better word, shocked.

Dinner that evening was filled with more conversation between the three Dursley's as to the unfairness of Uncle Vernon being overlooked in favor of a "slip of a girl" for the much-desired promotion. Harry wondered if the promotion would have had Uncle Vernon bossing about more people, and if that was the reason why his uncle's superiors had wisely chosen someone else. He did not, however, voice his suspicions. He had told both Dumbledore and Aunt Petunia that he had no interest in setting anyone off, and he hadn't. His goal was to reach the thirtieth day of his sentence, and be gone.

Unfortunately, Uncle Vernon was stewing, and looking for someone to take his frustration out on. He just didn't have any idea that Harry would refuse to be that person. His beady eyes kept darting towards Harry, watching his every move, searching for something to jump on. Finally, when Harry turned to his aunt to thank her for the meal, Uncle Vernon jumped.

"Didn't I tell you to get the gardens weeded today, boy?" Harry's back stiffened, and his eyes hardened. Petunia saw this, and her eyes widened.

"Vernon, can I get you coffee, love?" She stood, trying to distract him.

"I told you to weed the gardens today, didn't I boy?" Uncle Vernon persisted.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon. You'll find them done."

"I don't like the way you mowed the grass. I've told you I want it done crossways and then up and down. You'll do it again in the morning."

"The lawns were mowed the way you suggested, Uncle Vernon."

"Are you talking back to me, boy?"

"No, sir. And I would appreciate it if you would stop calling me 'boy'. My name, sir, is Harry."

Vernon, apparently, did not recognize the steel in Harry's voice. Petunia did, and bustled in with dessert, a large carrot cake, and smiled at Vernon.

"Now, Vernon, I thought you could cut the cake..."

"What did you say to me?" Uncle Vernon's voice was deadly quiet, his lips thinned and his hard stare focused directly on Harry. Dudley grinned as his eyes darted back and forth between his father and his cousin, knowing that Harry was teetering on the edge of something very large... perhaps even being locked in his room for the remainder of his vacation... Dudley was obviously very excited at the prospect.

"Vernon..."

"_Shut up!"_ Vernon roared at her, without taking his eyes off Harry. "For the love of God, woman, will you keep your mouth _shut_ while I am speaking!"

Harry stood, facing his uncle. He topped him by at least three inches, but Uncle Vernon had a good hundred pounds on him. This, however, didn't matter to Harry.

"Apologise," he said in a low voice.

"What?" Vernon stood, stepping toward Harry, his pig-like eyes narrowing further in his fat face. "What did you just say to me?"

"I said," Harry's voice was low, calm, and very, very dangerous, "apologise. You have no call to speak to her that way."

"Say that again, boy. Go ahead."

"You will apologise to my aunt. You have no call to speak to her that way."

Vernon began to turn the typical shade of purple that did not bode well for those in the immediate vicinity. Harry, however, was no longer affected. The same could not be said of Dudley, whose eyes darted back and forth between the two of them.

"I think you need to go upstairs, pack your bags and get out of my house before I do what I should have done years ago."

"And that is?" Harry returned.

"Take you out back and drown you in the rain barrel, boy."

"You are welcome to try, sir." Harry stood his ground.

It was over before it began, Vernon Dursley certainly did attempt to physically usher Harry outside, but found that Harry was more difficult to move than he had thought he would be. Who would have thought that a sixteen year old boy would have the kind of strength it took to stand his ground when faced with a man three times his age, and nearly twice his weight?

The next thing he knew, his arm was wound painfully behind his back, and he was facing his wife and son, both of whom had shocked looks on their faces.

"The general population at St Brutus' would be proud, I'm sure," Harry muttered in his uncle's ear. "Unfortunately, they'll never know. You will apologise to my aunt."

Vernon squawked out what passed for an apology, and Harry let him go.

"I noticed, Uncle Vernon, that you failed to lay down the law and ground rules on our trip from London this year. Perhaps we could take care of that now. My rules are this: I will conduct myself as you do. If you say something rude, untoward, or challenging to me, you will be faced with the same back. If you insult me, or any member of my family, expect me to take appropriate action. Should you make any mention of my life in a negative fashion, I would suggest you seriously consider the advisability of sleeping. You will treat my aunt with consideration and respect at all times. And that," he turned to Dudley, "goes for you, as well."

He stood looking down at them. "I will be leaving as soon as I can manage it. However, there are reasons for my presence here for a short while each year. I assure you I no more want to be here than you want me here, but it is necessary. For now, anyway. Until I leave, I assure you that I will act as a guest in your home should, so long as I am not provoked. If you wish to know what will happen if I am, then please, feel free to provoke me."

Harry was shaking by the time he got to his room. It wasn't fear, however, but barely controlled rage. For a moment, when he had Uncle Vernon's arm twisted behind his back, the temptation to twist it off had been fierce. Then, he had had to exert an incredible amount of control to keep the light bulbs and glasses in the room from exploding as he spoke.

As far as he was concerned, word from Dumbledore granting his release couldn't come quickly enough.

The following days passed quietly. Harry helped his aunt around the house, did all of the yard work, and managed to get a great deal of studying done in between. The three feet of parchment on the effects of potions on non-magical people assigned by Professor Snape was done, and Harry had even managed to not try out many of the theories on the other members of the household. Professor Binns had assigned three books to be read and summarized over the summer holidays, _Fourteen Hundred Years of Goblin Conflict_, _Giant Genocide: Justified?_ and _Louis XVI: The Wizard Behind the Throne_, and Harry was done the first two, and had spent an afternoon at the Muggle library looking up books to support his summarization and viewpoints on the third.

Dudley avoided him as much as a four-hundred-pound sixteen year old could in a three bedroom house. Aunt Petunia spent most of the time they were in the same room looking at him, almost curiously. Any time Harry's eyes met hers, he smiled, knowing that the smile did not show in his eyes. He was marking time until he got out of her home, and she knew it.

Uncle Vernon worked late and was gone early most every day. The first Saturday after their dinner time discussion, he was sitting in a lawn chair in the back garden when Hedwig returned with a package tied to her leg.

"That bloody bird...!" He began, then stopped himself as Harry stood and dusted off the garden soil from his hands.

"You were saying, Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked as he walked past, but his uncle merely gave him a nasty look, and retreated behind his newspaper.

Up in his room, he found Hedwig, pecking at the package on her leg. She nipped at his fingers affectionately as he untied it and released her to go to her cage for a drink.

"Good girl, Hedwig," he said absently, distracted by the writing on the outside of the package. The only ones who used Hedwig to deliver anything _to_ Harry were those he had just sent Hedwig to... Hermione, Ron, or Hagrid.

The writing on the package did not belong to any of them.

Shrugging, Harry opened the package, and smiled. It was from the Weasleys, namely Fred and George.

_Hey, Harry... howszit? When Hedwig arrived with the letter for Ron we decided to spare Errol the flight and send these back with her. Consider them an early birthday present... perhaps you can let us know exactly what their effect is on Muggles?_

_Enjoy!_

_Fred and George_

Inside the small package were "Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes Smoking Nose Candy Bars". Three of them. Harry laughed, he could just imagine what would happen if he left these anywhere near Dudley unattended. It then occurred to him to wonder what the effect of three bars at once would be.

Things were definitely looking up.

* * *

Near midnight on the thirtieth of July, Harry received another owl. This time, it was not so amusing.

_Dear Harry,_

_I regret that I must inform you that your time with the Dursley's must be extended. Situations we had hoped for have not arisen, and at this time, we cannot risk your safety by removing you from your aunt's presence. _

_I apologise for this, Harry. The situation is, at the moment, beyond my control. I will get word to you as soon this changes._

_Sincerely,_

_AD_

Harry stared at the parchment. How could he? How could Dumbledore just... just _dismiss_ him like this?

Aware of the growing rage, Harry knew he had to get out of the house. If he didn't, mirrors and windows would be popping everywhere. He felt the building of pressure within him, and knew it for what it was, uncontrolled rage.

He threw the parchment on his desk and grabbed his wand, sticking it in his back pocket and completely ignoring the little voice in his head that told him Mad-Eye would be furious. Too bad. Right now, _Harry_ was furious, and no one seemed to give a tinker's damn about that.

Several hours later, Harry watched the sun rise over Little Whinging from the picnic table in the back garden of Number Four. He was still furious, but resigned. He knew that he had no way to get away, unless someone came for him, or unless he just walked away. He couldn't Apparate, and the only floo he knew of was at Mrs Figg's, and she, being a member of the Order, would never let him use it.

And he couldn't walk to London. It was much too far, and he had no money for the train. He mentally kicked himself yet again for not getting money from Gringotts to keep in reserve. This year, he would have a stash in his trunk for emergencies.

Like this.

* * *

_Wow... reviews, reviews, reviews! Just to clarify, this is a stand alone, multi-chapter fic – not related to any of my earlier scribblings. If I ever write something related to something else, I will say so in the description. This is just a little thing I came up with after thinking about that "Remember My Last" line from Order of the Phoenix... and it kind of mutated and grew from there. That, and the fact that we really don't know that much about Lily and Petunia's family, and I always wondered about that. _

_**Quillian:** Thank you – I intend to! _

_**Q-BriarXJade-Q:** I hope to update daily – but it depends on my beta (grin)._

_**NotYourAverage:** No, I doubt I would ever write a different Harry pairing. I'm a die-hard H/G shipper – and I don't imagine that that will change anytime soon. I do write a bit of R/Hr... and other pairings in addition to H/G – but that's about it. I might consider a non-Harry story... but that's not where the muse is right now. As for Petunia, I know full well she can't really use it – but apparently Harry doesn't, or perhaps Dumbledore's motivation has to do with the FACT of her magic, not the application of it. You'll notice that his response to Harry was suitably vague._

_**Merlindamage:** I hope to update daily. This one is a bit different than my others (aren't they all?) so we'll see what kind of response I get to it..._

_**Cannonfodder:** Nope, you're right. This is a stand alone fic beginning at the end of sixth year. Harry is about to turn seventeen and enter his seventh and last year at Hogwarts._

_**Laraeliae Black:** Thanks, I try to stay as close to canon as I can... there are several reviewers who point out my most glaring errors, but I do try!_

_**Thunder's Shadow:** Thanks!_

_**Jekl:** Well, damn. I'm behind on my JKR news, as well... I had no idea she'd had the baby. Congratulations to her, nonetheless... I think I'm going to go off and raise a glass to my favorite author..._

_**MedievalWoman:** I thought so!_

_**Bklynbecca:** Thanks!_

_**Nimbirosa:** Patience! I have to put in the intro chapter to set the stage, at least! It wouldn't be any fun if they just fell into each others arms immediately, now would it? Of course not... keep reading, it'll come._

_**Shotgunn:** Hey! I did say "unseasonably" warm... I'm from the Canadian prairies... I could have said "approaching fifty degrees"...of course... in the winter we see the negative of that – quite literally, which I'm sure Scotland never sees, either. Ah, well – call it artistic license!_

_**Kazziedal:** Now that would be telling, wouldn't it? I don't think this is going to be nearly as long as the others, though – at least, it's not planned to be!_

_**GeeUnit:** Thanks!_

_**SaerrySnape:** I hope so – let me know in a few chapters!_

_**Miarae:** Nope – multichapter._

_**Lady Gallatea Ravenclaw:** Thanks, I intend to!_

_**MysticRuby:** Glad you like it so far!_

_**Larna Mandrea:** See, I was waiting for your review. I knew you'd be happy!_

_**Calliopeia's Crown:** Yes – once again I am behind the JKR news. _

_**Aerri:** Yes – I wondered that as well..._

_**Weselan:** I think that one needs to be a child of fully magical parents to be called a squib. Who knows? In reality, Dudley plays a rather small part in my story, and I didn't do any research into what he would be, should he show signs of magical ability or not. All will be explained in the end, I promise!_

_**Methoslover:** Keep reading!_

_**Boboky:** Thanks!_

_**Nebulia:** Wow – you sound almost as excited as Larna Mandrea (and that's saying something!)_

_**Sabine Strohem-Moss:** Hopefully updating daily._

_**Pdlegirl:** Hopefully daily – we'll see. I seldom update on weekends, as you know... but we'll see._

_**IndiaInk:** You're welcome!_

_**Pcb:** Don't feel too sorry for her – she's still a Dursley._

_**Wolf'sScream:** Oh, there's more!_

_CQ_


	3. Chapter Three: The Best Birthday

_A/N: Apparently I have concerned a few of you with some canon characters who you feel are not acting true to form. If you believed that about the last chapter, then this one probably won't be your cup of tea, either. Or perhaps I'm wrong. But I reiterate what I've said before, this is a seventh year fic... and none of us know what is going to happen in HBP... and this is fanfiction... I am not, nor have I ever claimed to be, JKR. Please... bear with me. I'm sure you will see where I'm going with this soon. If not, I'm sorry, but this is the way it comes out._

_CQ_

_

* * *

_

Chapter Three: The Best Birthday

"Pssst! 'Arry!"

Harry looked around curiously, seeing nothing more than the nicely trimmed bushes of his aunt and uncle's back garden.

But he knew that voice.

"Hagrid?"

"'Arry! Over here!"

Harry turned to the privet hedge and smiled. Two beady black eyes peeked out from behind a bush, which curiously seemed to have grown a bushy black mane of hair. Hagrid's hiding spot was hardly sufficient for his large frame.

"Hagrid, what are you doing here?"

"'Appy Birthday, 'Arry!"

"Thank you, but..." Harry's face went white. Hagrid had never come to the Dursley's before. Did that mean...? "Everything's okay? The Weasleys?"

"Oh, no!" Hagrid glanced around rather nervously. "Everything's fine. I've brought you your present, is all!"

"My present?" Harry flushed. It was five in the morning on July thirty-first, his seventeenth birthday.

"Yes, your present! You're a full-fledged, honest to goodness, of-age wizard, 'Arry!"

"I suppose I am," Harry smiled sadly. A full-fledged, honest to goodness, of-age wizard who couldn't seem to find a way to get away from here, despite his new adult status.

"Come on, then!"

Harry, who had been expecting a packet of rock cakes, or even a squashed cake box, was surprised when Hagrid led him around the house to the front drive.

"Hagrid?"

"Now, this is from me, 'Arry," Hagrid handed him a rather strange gift. It was a golden lightning bolt with a ring attached. Harry thought for a moment before he realized it was a key ring.

Hagrid got odder with every passing year.

"An' _that_..." Hagrid pointed behind Harry. "_That_ is from Sirius."

Harry's eyes darted up to Hagrid's round face, which was smiling, and then, at the half-giant's encouraging nod, he turned.

It was glorious. Beautiful. It was the answer to his prayers.

It was the biggest motorbike Harry had ever seen.

"Is that...?"

"I brought you away from Godric's Hollow on that... _that_ night. Sirius asked me to keep it safe. When I tried to return it to him... well, after, you know... well, he..." Hagrid coughed. "He told me to keep it safe and... and he told me he intended for you to have it, when you came of age."

Harry felt tears in his eyes.

"Well, after... after your... fifth year, well... I jes' held onto it. Now, today is the day he'd 'a given it to you, so..."

"Thank you, Hagrid," Harry turned damp eyes up at his huge friend. "Thank you."

"Now, one thing, 'Arry..." Hagrid seemed a little uncomfortable.

"What?"

"Ye didn't get it from me, 'ear? Molly Weasley'd hex me into next week if she knew..."

"Don't worry, Hagrid... I won't tell," Harry grinned. "Um, Hagrid?"

"What is it, then?"

"How... I mean... well, how do you...?"

The light of understanding lit Hagrid's face. "Ah, nuthin easier, nuthin easier. Jes' like flying a broom, I'm told. Though I suggest you keep this one on the ground. Leastways, for the first while."

"Hagrid..." Harry swallowed. "I'm leaving."

"You're what?"

"Leaving here. I've been trying to figure out how. Dumbledore wants me to stay with them... with my aunt and uncle. But I can't, Hagrid. I can't. Not any more."

"Unnerstandable, 'Arry," Hagrid nodded. "Dumbledore is a great man, 'Arry, a great man. Don't you think that I think otherwise. But sometimes... well, you gotta do what you feel is best, 'Arry."

"Yes," Harry nodded.

"So, where are you going, then? It's only a month till school lets in."

"Where else would I go, Hagrid? Home. The Burrow."

* * *

Riding the motorbike had been easy. As Hagrid had said, it was very much like riding a broom. The bike had seemed to interpret Harry's every move, and responded beautifully. Harry, being Harry, had investigated every knob and button of the rather impressive array in front of him, and been thrilled to find that this bike... _his_ bike, had every magical addition he could think of, and a few he wouldn't have.

Harry had returned to his room and retrieved his meagre belongings, his first official "legal" spell as an adult wizard was to shrink his trunk and place it in the pocket of his jeans.

As he headed down the stairs, Uncle Vernon appeared at the bottom.

"Boy, where have you been? Breakfast... now."

Harry looked coolly at him. "Do you know what day it is today, Uncle Vernon?"

"It's Tuesday, and if you don't get in there and get my breakfast, I'll be late for work. Now move."

"I'm afraid, then, that you're going to be late," Harry smiled, not a very nice smile.

"Boy..."

"It's my birthday, Uncle Vernon. My seventeenth birthday. I am seventeen today, and no longer an underage wizard."

Harry watched as dawning realization entered Vernon's eyes.

"No more restriction on underage magic, Uncle Vernon."

"But... but..."

"I ought to hex you. I ought to turn you into a pig. I ought to do a lot of things."

"You... you keep that unnaturalness..." Vernon blustered, turning red. "You... get out of my house!"

"Oh, I intend to," Harry said, his voice low and quiet. Vernon Dursley was not worth losing his temper over. "But first, I have something to say to Aunt Petunia, and Dudley, of course."

Moving past Vernon, Harry was surprised when a meaty hand snaked out and grabbed his arm. Stilling, he looked down at it, then up, his glowing green eyes meeting those of the older man. The challenge was there for the older man to take up, or not.

Vernon Dursley quailed, dropping his hand as though he'd been burned. Harry turned and continued down the hall to the kitchen.

Petunia and Dudley were seated at the table as he entered. Both raised startled eyes to him. Apparently they had heard.

"I'm leaving now," Harry said simply.

"Yes," she replied.

"I have nothing to thank you for," he said. "I'm not a hypocrite, and I won't become one just to make you feel better."

Petunia said nothing, her chin raised.

"Perhaps you should think about what my mother might have had to say to you," Harry said quietly. "Goodbye."

He strode out of the kitchen, past his uncle and through the front door, he was just mounting the bike when the front door burst open, revealing a heaving Dudley Dursley. The larger boy stopped in shock when he realized that Harry wasn't walking down the street.

"Potter! Where did _you_ get something like that?" he said with shock.

"A birthday present, Dudders, from someone who gave a damn about me."

"Who would...?"

"Someone your parents don't want _you_ associating with."

With that, Harry started the bike and roared off. It was nine in the morning, the sun was shining, and he was leaving Little Whinging behind forever.

He didn't look back.

* * *

_**GeeUnit:** Fast enough?_

_**GiGiFanfic:** "Nearly" all? Well, there was that bit at the beginning of "Faith"... but I figured we were past that... (wink) And hey, fireworks are GOOD!_

_**SaerrySnape:** Yeah – I don't like Vernon much myself._

_**KittiesRule878:** Glad you like it so far... let me know what you think as it goes on... this one is very different than my others._

_**Wvchemteach:** Hope you continue to enjoy it. It's very different than my previous efforts._

_**Lazteuq:** Right now, I only have this one planned to cover to the end of the summer. We'll see where it goes after that._

_**IcePhoenixTears:** Soon? How's daily? I don't often update on weekends though... sorry!_

_**MysticRuby:** Here's more! Yes – Harry HATES living with the Dursleys, but this chapter takes care of that... or does it?_

_**Nimbirosa:** Harry Ginny action coming – I promise. _

_**IndiaInk:** Well, I think we can all safely assume what the situation was with Duddikins and the candy bars... _

_**Q-BriarXJade-Q:** You write daily until it becomes habit. Then you continue to force yourself to write daily until it becomes such a part of you that you MUST write daily. Then you have plenty of material to choose from, and no longer have to post the crap. Trust me – I speak from experience!_

_**Weselan:** How do you deal with fanfics that the author doesn't update as quickly as I do? As for Dumbledore, does he EVER say what he REALLY means straight out?_

_**Shotgunn:** You're good for my ego, my dear. I'll tell you what – you keep saying nice things, and I'll keep writing, okay?_

_**Merlindamage:** **YOU** know it, and **I** know it, but do **THEY** know it?_

_**Sabine Strohem-Moss:** All shall be revealed... in time. I think._

_**Methoslover:** See? This is why I have great reviewers... because little things like that get past me!_

_**Thunders Shadow:** Dumbledore isn't "unlikeable" - he's just a little misguided, I think. Hang in there, it will all make sense in time._

_**Cannonfodder:** I think sometimes, Dumbledore is TOO used to being listened to without question..._

_**Quillian:** All shall be revealed in time!_

_**Rdprice29:** Yes, Harry's birthday will be interesting. I've always been intrigued by the Howler that Petunia received... I think there is MUCH more there. But we shall see..._


	4. Chapter Four: The Burrow

_A/N: This is a REALLY long chapter, so I'm going to leave the reader responses to the next one. Enjoy!_

_CQ_

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* * *

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Chapter Four: The Burrow

"Mum?" Ginny Weasley looked up from the sink where she was helping her mother peel potatoes. "What's that noise?"

"Ginny, concentrate love... you'll never get the charm right if you..."

"No, Mum... listen!"

Molly Weasley suddenly stilled. What _was_ that noise? A low rumble...

"Mum!" Ron rushed into the room. "Mum, come quick... you've got to see this!"

"Ron?" Molly followed him through to the front of the house, drying her hands on a tea towel as she went. Opening the front door, she was startled to see a golden motorcycle making it's way up their drive.

"Ron," she whispered. "Floo your father."

"Mum?"

"Now!" she said, pulling her wand from the pocket of her robe. "Ginny, go and wake Bill."

Bill, the eldest of the Weasley children, was currently asleep upstairs in the tower room he'd occupied before leaving home for Egypt. He was now home again, having transferred back to England to assist the Order, and had worked all night on some secret bidding of Dumbledore's.

"I'm here, Mum," he came down the stairs, barefoot and barechested, pulling on a Chudley Cannon's t-shirt that Ron had given him the Christmas before. He still had sleep in his eyes, but his long hair was tied back, and his wand was stuck in the hip pocket of his faded muggle jeans. He, apparently, had also heard the strange noise.

"Bill," Molly turned back to the open doorway, where they could see the visitor coming to a stop in front of the house.

Cutting the engine, he lifted off the helmet and grinned at them.

"Harry Potter!" Molly's hand came to her throat before she hurried out of the door into the yard, and rushed up to Harry. He'd just dismounted the bike and hung the helmet off the back when Molly pulled him into her arms.

"You silly, silly boy! Oh, Harry! What on earth were you thinking? You shouldn't be out without..."

"Mrs Weasley, I'm okay," he comforted her, hugging her tightly. He could remember when his head had come to her breast. Now, at over six feet tall, her own red curls rested against his chest, well below his chin.

Ron, Bill and Ginny came from the house, grinning. Bill was pulling on his dragon hide boots as he came, skipping a little to keep his balance.

"Nice bike there, Harry," he commented, an appreciative smile in his eyes.

"Where did you get _that_?" Ron was practically drooling.

"It was my birthday present," Harry said softly, keeping his arm around Molly and looking at the others as they admired the bike.

"From who?" Ginny ran a hand over the leather of the seat, still warm from Harry's body.

"Sirius," Harry said, looking down at Molly, tucked under his arm.

All four sets of eyes turned to him.

"It was... delivered... this morning," Harry said uncomfortably. "Sirius made the arrangements before... I guess."

"Does Dumbledore know about this?" Molly began. "Harry, these things are dangerous..."

"Mrs Weasley, I'm fine... the bike is fine... I don't think I could have fallen off it if I tried."

"But you rode this from _Surrey_?"

"Yes," he nodded.

"You must have gotten good time..." Bill commented, his eyes running appreciately over the golden finish.

"Three hours... give or take," Harry glanced down at Molly, bracing for the blow.

"Through _London_?" she screeched.

"I... jumped London, actually," Harry admitted. "Didn't want to deal with the roundabouts."

"Jumped?" asked Ron, raising a brow at him.

"It flies," Harry admitted, telling himself he'd get hold of Ron later and make him pay for leading the conversation _there_.

For once, Molly Weasley's children were treated to the sight of their mother, speechless.

Bill, Ron and Ginny turned glowing eyes on Harry. Bill's hand remained on the bike, gently touching the handlebars. Harry grinned. Digging in his pocket, he brought out the keychain that Hagrid had given him that morning, which now held a single key.

"Want to take it out?" Harry held the key up. Bill and Ron's eyes sparked. Ginny's smouldered.

"I think _not_!" Molly cried. Harry nearly laughed at the open disappointment on his friend's faces.

Suddenly hit with an idea, he smiled down at her. "Mrs Weasley, do you trust me?"

"Of course I do, Harry... but that thing is dangerous..."

"It got me here from Surrey without a hiccup, and I'd never driven one before. Would you do something, if I asked you to?"

"What?"

"Will you? I promise, you're perfectly safe."

"I... if I can, of course."

"Get on the bike."

"What?" Molly's eyes rounded with horror. Harry didn't notice the reactions of the others, he was focused on Molly, but had he seen their looks of shock, he would have been highly amused.

"Get on the bike. On the back."

"What? No... I..."

"Look, I'll get on, and all you have to do is get on behind me."

With that, he loped a leg across the bike and looked at her expectantly.

Molly swallowed nervously.

"It's nothing to be afraid of. I've seen you in a car dozens of times."

"That's different."

"No, it's not. Just get on. I promise, I won't do anything without telling you."

Molly hesitated, then moved forward. Bill, shocked as he was, stepped forward to help her.

Harry could tell she was struggling. He grinned at her.

"I thought you Weasley's were a Gryffindor family?"

"I thought you Potter's had the sense Merlin gave a goose," Molly shot back, and gave a little screech as Bill lifted her and then sat her down in the seat behind Harry. She tensed, then moved back against the back-rest.

"Yes, yes... very nice..." she made to get off, but Harry stilled her with a hand on her knee.

"Just a minute," he said, putting the key in the ignition and starting the bike with a roar.

Molly squealed.

"It's okay... I just wanted you to feel the engine running. Okay?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"Here," Harry handed her the helmet.

"What?"

"Put it on," he said. "I want you to know how safe I was. I stopped to buy that outside London."

Hesitantly, Molly placed the helmet on her head, and Bill stepped forward to fasten it for her.

Harry smiled.

"Put your arms around my waist," he said.

Molly, overwhelmed, did as she was told. With a start, Harry moved the bike forward several feet. He felt her hands tighten around him with alarm.

"Okay?"

"Fine... fine..." she said, loosening her grip.

"Good. Hold on."

And with that, they were off, leaving Bill, Ginny and Ron staring, open mouthed, after them.

"Where's a bloody camera when you need one?" Ron asked no one in particular.

When they returned, ten minutes later, it was to find four people standing waiting for them. Arthur had arrived, and was curiously watching. His children had told him what had happened, but he couldn't quite believe it. His eyes danced with pleasure as Harry pulled up in front of the group.

"Mum?" Ginny said, concerned, as Molly drew off the helmet.

"Help me down, Bill..."

With Bill and Ginny's help, Molly dismounted the bike and Harry after her.

"Okay, Mum?" Bill asked, glancing between his mother and Harry.

"Quite," she said, turning to Harry. "Okay, love... I don't pretend to believe that you went that slowly if you made it all the way from Surrey in three hours, but..."

"I promise I won't do anything silly, Mrs Weasley," Harry said softly.

"You'd better not, love," and with a nod, she turned and entered the house, her very excited husband following, asking her for every detail.

"Bloody hell, Harry," Ron was in awe. "How'd you do that? If it were me..."

Harry grinned, holding out the key to his best friend. "Want a go?"

Ron's eyes lit, "Really?"

"Of course," Harry tossed the key to him.

After explaining the workings of the bike, as Hagrid had earlier that day, Harry handed the helmet to his friend and stepped back. Ron, as big a grin as Harry had ever seen on his face, started the bike and moved slowly off. By the time he reached the bend in the drive, he'd speeded up and they could hear his whoop of glee.

Bill grinned.

"From Sirius, huh?"

"Yes," Harry agreed.

"And who did you say delivered it?"

"I didn't," Harry turned dancing eyes back to the eldest Weasley sibling.

"Do I need to guess?"

"He's afraid of your mum."

Ginny snorted, "Well, that doesn't exactly narrow the field any, does it?"

"I promised I wouldn't tell," Harry smiled, looking away down the road, relieved when he heard the rumble of the bike coming closer. Ron rounded the corner and approached.

"Don't worry, Harry," Bill grinned. "Hagrid's secret is safe with us."

Ron pulled to a stop in front of them, his face glowing as he pulled off the helmet.

"Bill, you've _got_ to try this..."

Bill's eyes turned to Harry.

"Go ahead," Harry said.

Without any more encouragement, Bill took the helmet, hopped on and was off almost before Ron stepped back.

"That is bloody amazing, Harry!"

Harry responded to Ron's excited conversation as they waited for Bill to return, but was fully aware of Ginny standing, silent, beside them. Something was bothering her.

"You okay?" He asked quietly.

"Sure," she said in a falsely bright voice.

He watched her closely, not fooled for a minute.

"Sure?"

"Yes, Harry..." she nodded. "I'm fine."

"Want to take it out next?"

At this, he was surprised to see her face show... fright.

"It's okay if you don't, Gin, really."

"I..." Ginny looked up at him. "I do, Harry... it's just..."

Harry looked into her eyes. She was really scared.

"It's okay to be frightened, Gin."

"No, it's bloody well not!" she muttered. "What kind of Gryffindor gets frightened of something like this?"

"Gryffindors are known for their courage and loyalty, not their stupidity," Harry commented.

"What?" Ginny looked at him, confused.

"Ginny, courage isn't not being scared... courage is being scared out of your wits and doing something anyhow, or choosing not to."

Ginny considered his words as Bill roared up.

"I need to get me one of these," Bill said, his blue eyes sparkling happily.

"Come on," Harry grinned, taking the helmet from Bill and placing it on Ginny's head. Fastening it, he grinned at Ron. "Tell your mum I took Ginny out for a ride."

"What?" Ron yelped., looking alarmed "No way, mate. _You_ tell her!"

"She's perfectly safe, Ron. Your mum knows I wouldn't endanger her."

Ginny squealed, much as Molly had, when Harry lifted her bodily and placed her on the rear seat. Swinging his leg over, he started the bike, and reached back, taking Ginny's hands and showing her where the hold bars were on either side of her seat.

"You can hold on here," he said over the noise of the engine. "But you don't have to. You won't fall off. The seat back will keep you there."

Smiling and nodding her understanding, she watched as he put the bike into motion, and waved gaily at her brothers as they pulled away.

"Mum is going to kill us," Ron said morosely.

"No, she's not," Bill replied, smiling as he watched the other two pull away down the drive.

"Are you insane? Harry just drove away on a motorcycle, with Ginny on the back!"

"Exactly," Bill grinned, turning back to the house. "He could have let her go alone. Then Mum would have killed _him_. So long as he's with her... well, Mum isn't blind."

"What?"

"Ron," Bill put a brotherly hand on Ron's shoulder. "Ginny is with Harry. Ginny is safe with Harry. Ginny will _always_ be safe with Harry. Mum knows this."

"I don't..." Ron was confused.

"Wake up, Ron," Bill said softly. "And see what the rest of us have known for years."

"You mean...?"

"I mean, that not just anyone would have gone into that Chamber for her... and not just anyone would have gotten her out."

Ron swallowed, glancing back down the driveway that his best friend and his sister had just disappeared down.

"I guess you're right," Ron sighed. "But best friend or not, if he hurts her, I'll kill him."

"Get in line, mate."

* * *

For twenty minutes, Harry and Ginny drove over the rural Devon roads. Harry had fallen in love with the feeling of driving the bike within minutes of driving away from Little Whinging that morning, and he was thrilled that Ginny seemed to be sharing that.

Ten minutes into their ride, he'd glanced into the mirror to his left to see Ginny sitting, arms raised in the air much like a muggle riding a roller coaster, laughing with joy. It was a mental picture he knew would take years to fade. As she dropped her hands, he tensed as he felt them snake around his waist. It took him a minute to relax. Ginny Weasley was pressed to his back, her arms wound tightly around him, and Harry found that he didn't mind the feeling at all.

Finally, some miles from the Burrow, he pulled over onto the verge, and cut the engine.

"Harry?" Ginny looked curiously at him. "Why did you stop?"

"To teach you," he said.

"Teach me what?"

"How to drive the bike."

Ginny gulped, her cheeks lost their color and she glanced nervously at him.

"What if I..."

"It's just like riding a broom, Ginny, and you do that really, really well."

"But what if I..."

"We're just going to go slow. You won't get hurt."

"I'm not worried about getting hurt," she said under her breath.

"The what are you worried about?"

"Harry... what if I wreck your bike? Do you know what these things are worth? I could never replace it!"

"It's a _thing_, Ginny. Things can be replaced."

"I could never _afford_ to replace it, Harry! This bike is probably worth more than my dad makes at the Ministry in a year."

"So?"

"So..." she looked at him, startled.

"Ginny, before this morning, I didn't even know about it. Trust me, if you crashed it, the least of my worries would be the loss of the bike."

"But Sirius gave it to you..."

"No, he didn't," Harry shook his head. "Sirius is dead, Ginny. Gone. Hagrid brought it to me. It _was_ Sirius' but he hadn't even seen it since the night... the night that my parents died. Ginny, it's a _thing_. It can be replaced. I just want you to know the feeling... it's an amazing feeling, Gin."

Ginny swallowed again, then moved forward on the seat. She gripped the handlebars and sighed.

"Tell me what to do."

Half an hour later, they pulled into the driveway of the Burrow, Ginny driving and Harry seated behind her. Her grin rivaled Ron's and Harry was laughing.

"It's lovely to see," Arthur spoke quietly to his wife, standing in the hall window, where she'd returned time and time again to peer out ever since Bill and Ron had told her where Harry and Ginny had gone.

"Yes," Molly nodded. "Arthur, do you think..."

"I do," Arthur said. "Look."

Molly turned and looked out the window again in time to see Harry catch Ginny as her legs gave out under her as she dismounted. They were both laughing and Harry kept his arms around her as she steadied herself.

Molly sighed, "It's true, isn't it?"

"What, love?"

"What Albus told us, after Harry brought Ginny out of the Chamber. There is a link there now."

"Yes, Molly. But I believe that it's always been there."

Molly and Arthur watched as the couple outside stepped away from each other. Ginny's legs were still wobbly from the unaccustomed feeling of the bike, and they could tell by the way he held his body and stayed close to her that Harry was ready to catch her again, if need be.

They smiled at each other, and turned towards the kitchen.

"Tea, love?" Molly asked.

"Sounds wonderful," Arthur confirmed.

* * *

"You okay?" Harry asked. Ginny giggled.

"Silly, aren't I?"

"No, not silly at all. You were brilliant."

She raised shining eyes to his. "Thank you, Harry. It was wonderful. A wonderful feeling..."

"Told you so," he grinned, turning to the house and pocketing the key to the bike.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"You will be careful, won't you?"

"I thought I proved to you, and to your mother, that it's safe?"

"I didn't mean the bike, exactly," she said, biting her lip.

"I'm an adult now, Gin. A full-fledged, of-age wizard," he said wryly, remembering Hagrid's words.

"That doesn't mean that he's going to stop looking for you."

"No, it doesn't," he agreed. "But now, maybe I can do something about it."

"Harry?" her brown eyes held fear. He could tell by the look on her face that he'd said too much.

"Never mind, Gin," he said, draping a brotherly arm around her shoulders and urging her ahead towards the house, where he was sure that Molly would have a pot of tea ready. "I'll be careful."

* * *

They found the others in the kitchen, drinking tea. The moment they entered, Molly rushed forward and got two more cups. Harry looked curiously at Ron, who was staring wordlessly at him, a rather odd look on his face.

Bill was smirking.

"What?" Harry looked between them, wondering what he'd done now.

"Rather... close... to my sister there, aren't you, Potter?" Ron asked dryly.

Harry realized then that he still had his arm around Ginny and hurriedly dropped it, flushing wildly.

"Lay off, Ron," Ginny said, moving to the table where Molly placed two more cups of tea.

"Mr Weasley," Harry greeted him. "It's good to see you."

"And you, Harry," Arthur smiled. "Harry, we do need to talk..."

Harry, still trying to get over his embarrassment, looked up, rather disconcerted to find Arthur Weasley looking at him intently.

"Mr Weasley?"

"Harry, you put an almighty scare into the Order this morning."

"How so?"

"You disappeared from your aunt's home and no one knew where you were for over three hours."

"I suppose that the Aurors who were supposed to be watching me missed my leaving, then?"

Arthur sighed. "The point is, Harry, you weren't _supposed_ to leave. You and Albus agreed..."

"I didn't agree to anything, Mr Weasley. Professor Dumbledore didn't give me a chance to disagree. He sent me an owl close to midnight last night telling me that I wouldn't be _allowed_ to leave today."

Arthur looked at him, obviously strained.

"Look, I'm sorry..." Harry ran his hand through his already messy hair. "When I... when I got the bike, all I could think of was coming here... seeing... well..."

"Harry..."

But Harry wasn't listening. He stood, pulling his keys from his pocket and tossed them across the table. Bill caught them reflexively in mid-air.

"Harry?"

"I've got to go to London. I'll be at the Leaky Cauldron. The bike isn't safe there, and I won't be able to take it to school with me, so it's yours until I graduate in the spring. Take care of it."

"Harry..." Bill's eyes widened.

"I just..." Harry sighed, glancing at Ron and Ginny. "Let me know when you're coming to Diagon Alley."

"Harry..." Arthur began again.

"No, Mr Weasley, you're right. Dumbledore is going to be upset, but he's going to be upset with me. I'll let him know that I'm okay, but there's no reason to drag you and Mrs Weasley into this."

"Harry, sit down," Molly said, pressing on his shoulders and forcing him to sit back down.

"Mrs Weasley..."

"Harry," she pulled out a chair and sat, facing him. "Harry, you are always welcome here, and it has nothing to do with your involving us. We are involved, Harry. But you need to be in your aunt's presence, living with her, for her blood to protect you."

"Until I came of age," Harry said quietly.

"No, Harry... for as long as you're in danger," Arthur said. "But Dumbledore... he knew how much you hated living there, and he never believed that it would take this long for us to..."

"He expected me to take on Voldemort before now?"

Molly and Arthur exchanged an odd glance.

"He expected us to find a solution before you ever came of age, Harry."

"He hasn't told you the prophecy, has he?" Harry asked, glancing between them, stunned. He had thought the entire Order would know it by now.

"The prophecy?" Arthur looked at him. "You mean the one from the Department of Mysteries that we were guarding?"

"Yes."

"But, Harry," Molly said quietly. "It was lost... that night. Smashed..."

"No... I mean, yes... it _was_ smashed, but..."

"You heard it?"

"Dumbledore told me, later."

"But how?"

"He was the one who witnessed it," Harry explained. "It's about me. And him... Voldemort."

Molly and Arthur, and the three of their children present, were silent. Harry sighed.

"Look, it's rather long and involved," Harry glanced around. "But, basically, it says that either I have to be the one to kill Voldemort, or die trying."

Ginny gasped, Molly cried out, and Ron made a strange gurgling sound.

"Harry?" Ginny was the first to recover her voice. "You mean...?"

At that moment, there was a flare from the fireplace, and Dumbledore himself came into the room.

"Harry, here you are..." the old headmaster sighed.

"I'm sorry, Albus..." Arthur stood. "I was just about to floo you..."

"That's fine, that's fine..." Dumbledore said, glancing at Arthur, then back to Harry. "I spoke to your aunt..."

"You spoke to Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked.

"Yes. I've explained that you need to come back, to stay there until..."

"No."

"Harry?" Dumbledore looked closely at him, noting the expression on the young wizard's face.

"I'm not going back there, Professor. I'm sorry."

"Harry, you can't stay here..."

"I know that," Harry agreed. "I'll stay at the Leaky Cauldron... or somewhere in Diagon Alley. I'll even go to Grimmauld Place if you want, although I won't promise not to pin that bloody house elf up if I do. But I am not going back to my aunt and uncle."

"Harry, you must. You must be in the care of your aunt, one of your mother's blood..."

"_I_ am of my mother's blood," Harry said stubbornly. "And I am of age, as of today. I will _not _go back there."

"Harry, your aunt's blood protects you."

"I am not going back."

"You need to be in her presence..."

"Then bring her to me," Harry said. "Because I am not going back there. Ever."

"Bring her...?"

"Let her see. Let her see what she turned her back on. Let her see what I am. If you want her with me, it's on my terms. She can be an unwelcome guest in _my_ home, instead of the other way around."

"Your home?" Dumbledore looked pale.

"Yes. I have enough gold sitting in Gringotts. I'll buy a house."

"That won't be necessary," Dumbledore said quietly.

"Necessary, nothing. I'm of age now... I'll spend it as I see fit."

"Certainly, Harry, but you don't need to buy a house. You already have one."

Harry was silent for a moment, looking carefully at the old professor.

"I do?"

"You do. Come."

"Come? Come where?"

"I shall take you there. Come, it's quite safe."

"Where?"

Dumbledore's eyes shone. Harry knew it wasn't happiness, it was some other emotion. Acceptance, perhaps.

He hoped.

"Where?" he repeated.

"Godric's Hollow, Harry. The Potter family estate at Godric's Hollow."


	5. Chapter Five: Return to Godric's Hollow

Chapter Five: Return to Godric's Hollow

"My family home was destroyed... the night my parents died," Harry said flatly.

"No, Harry. They were not at Potter Manor. They were in a safe house... in the village nearby."

"You mean to tell me, that all this time, I've had a bloody house and no one saw fit to _tell_ me?"

"No, Harry. You would not have been safe..."

Harry just glared at him.

"I have a home."

"Yes."

"I own it."

"Yes."

"Fine. Take me there."

Dumbledore nodded, then stepped back to the floo. Taking a handful of floo powder, he tossed it to the ground and said, "Potter Manor," in a loud, clear voice.

Harry, following, did the same.

Ron and Ginny looked silently at each other, nodded, then stepped into the hearth. Before anyone could say or do anything, they had followed.

"Arthur!"

"Molly..."

"It's okay, Mum..." Bill stood, heading towards the floo. "I'll go."

* * *

The first sight Harry had of his family home was of a decent-sized room, brightly lit by tall windows. There was formal seating in front of a large hearth, which he and Dumbledore had just stepped out of.

"Welcome to Potter Manor, Harry."

There was a flare in the hearth behind them, and Harry spun around in time to see Ron and Ginny stumble out.

"Harry..." Ron gasped, coughing. "You need to clean out your floo, mate."

"I'll get right on that, Ron," Harry nearly laughed at his friend. Ron was covered with soot. "Welcome to Potter Manor."

Ginny's eyes widened as she glanced around the room. "Oh, Harry..."

"This is the public lounge..."

"Public lounge?"

"Just a term," Dumbledore smiled. "Meaning that the main floo access comes to this room."

Another flare announced the arrival of another coughing Weasley. Bill stepped out of the fire, his hand over his mouth.

"Ron, Ginny... Mum's ready to skin you," he said. "She told me to tell you that she raised you better than that, and next time, she expects you to wait for an invitation."

Harry's eyebrows rose at that.

"Bill, just for the record," he said quietly. "None of your family will ever require an invitation to come to my home. I don't recall ever needing one to come to yours."

"Hey, mate, talk to Mum," Bill shrugged, glancing around and whistling low. "Wow. Nice place."

Harry's gaze followed his, taking in the high ceiling and lush furnishings. It was certainly more impressive than any other house he'd ever been in.

If you liked this sort of thing. Harry decided that he far preferred the Burrow, and it's homey warmth, but maybe that was more to do with the people in it than anything else.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Ron whispered as they followed Dumbledore out into a hall. A very large hall with a very large marble staircase.

Yes, it was definitely the Weasley's themselves, Harry thought, grinning.

"You could play Quidditch in here, Harry!" Ron gasped.

"Well, if it were raining," Dumbledore smiled at Ron.

"Raining?"

"Otherwise, I would suspect you would use the private Quidditch pitch beyond the lake."

"Lake?" said Ginny faintly.

"Potter Manor has extensive grounds, as well as the main house."

"_Main_ house?" Harry turned to the old professor.

"The Potter family was once quite large, Harry," Dumbledore explained. "This is a family compound."

It took the five of them an hour to tour the house. Harry saw things that made his eyes water. Family portraits, his father's childhood room, with Quidditch banners still hung on the wall, a school tie hanging from the corner of the mirror. And in another room, a room he suspected his parents had shared, a framed photo on the bedside table of a dark-haired, green-eyed infant.

He knew it was of himself.

But the hardest was the painting. It hung in the den, over the fire. There was a leather sofa facing it, and the desk behind. It was a wedding portrait of his parents.

Harry turned on Dumbledore.

"This is mine," he stated.

"Yes."

Harry nodded, looking around. "Wards?"

"It's warded well. Your family was very affluent, and very verbal in their position against the Dark Arts. Your grandfather took all the necessary precautions."

Harry turned to Bill. "Bill, could you...?"

"I'd be happy to, Harry," Bill nodded. "It will take a little while to check out everything, though."

"Thank you," Harry turned back to Dumbledore. "I'm not leaving here. Do what you have to, bring who you have to bring, but until I return to school, I'm staying here."

Dumbledore sighed. "I will have to bring her here, then. It is unlikely she'll be willing to leave your uncle and cousin behind..."

"Like I said, bring who you have to bring."

Dumbledore nodded and turned to the door. In a moment, he was gone.

"Harry?" Ginny moved over next to him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he smiled at her, but she couldn't help but notice that it didn't quite reach his eyes. He seemed... cold.

Ginny immediately knew what it was. This was the Harry who lived with the Dursleys. This was how he survived, by turning off his emotions. She wanted to cry. Instead, she slipped her hand into his and looked up at him with wide brown eyes.

"You're not doing this alone, Harry."

He looked at her, and she could see the war that as going on behind his eyes. With a squeeze of his hand, she smiled, and he smiled back. A genuine smile this time; a Harry smile.

"Well, let's have a look around then, shall we?" he asked.

He didn't let go of her hand.

* * *

When Albus told Molly and Arthur what was happening, that Harry refused to leave Potter Manor and that he was going to try to convince Petunia Dursley to come, Molly Weasley huffed with displeasure and immediately began packing a basket with food. Twenty minutes later, she and Arthur flooed through to the public lounge of Harry's home.

Molly gasped. "Arthur?"

"The Potter family was very wealthy, Molly."

"Arthur, I had no idea..." She shook her head. "Does his muggle family live like this?"

"No, love. Not even close."

Arthur could see the gears grinding in his wife's head. Harry had never given any indication of his wealth, but Arthur, knowing he was the last remaining Potter, and probably heir to the Black fortune as well, through Sirius, had a very good idea of how well off Harry was. Financially, at least.

They went in search of the others, finding them in the main hall.

"Mum! Dad! Would you look at this place?" Ron said.

"It's a lovely house, love," Molly smiled. "But it's the people in it that make it a home."

"Did Dumbledore tell you...?" Bill asked.

"Yes. Yes, he did," Arthur confirmed. "Your mother has brought supplies... we missed lunch."

"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed at the thought of food. "Kitchens are through here, Mum."

As the group moved through, Ginny dropped back beside her mother.

"Dumbledore has gone to get Harry's aunt," she stated.

"Yes, love."

"He can't stay here alone with her," Ginny said softly.

"Ginny?"

"I'm staying, Mum. I think Ron is, too."

"Ginevra..."

"Mum, you should have seen him. You _will_ see it. He goes... cold. I know it's how he's survived living with them, but he's just not Harry. He needs us, Mum."

All this was said so softly there was no way anyone else could have heard. Molly turned flashing eyes on her only daughter.

"You'll wait for an invitation to stay, Ginevra Weasley..."

"None of you need an invitation," Harry had appeared beside them as they entered the kitchens. "Ever. You're all welcome to come and go as you please."

"Harry..."

"I was rather hoping that Ron and Ginny could stay, Mrs Weasley, but I understand if you're not comfortable with that."

"Harry?"

"The house hasn't been lived in for years. I've asked Bill to check the wards, but I can't guarantee that it's any safer than the Burrow."

"Harry, why don't you come and stay at the Burrow with us..." Molly began.

"I can't," he said. "Dumbledore says my aunt has to be with me. I wouldn't do that to you, Mrs Weasley."

"We can always find room..."

"No," Harry shook his head. "The Burrow... I don't want her even knowing it exists. She's... she'd ruin it. Taint it. The Burrow is... it's special, Mrs Weasley... and I don't want her there."

A glint entered Molly Weasley's eye at this.

"Then, Harry, there is nothing for it..."

"Mrs Weasley?"

"I assume you meant it when you said we were welcome?"

"Of course."

"Then the Weasley family will come to you. Because there is no way in Merlin's name I'm leaving you alone in this house with that woman."

* * *

They were sitting around the huge harvest table in the kitchen, enjoying Molly Weasley's impromptu lunch, when they heard someone calling.

"Harry? Ron?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other, suddenly grinning.

"Hermione!" Harry stood, moving to the door, followed closely by his best friend. They entered the main hall just as she did from the other side. She dropped her bags and raced toward them, hugging them both tightly.

"Oh, Harry! Dumbledore has just been, he told me what happened, so I came as quickly as I could... and what were you _thinking_ riding Sirius' motorbike halfway across England...?"

Harry coughed, her wild hair smothering him as she hugged him. "Hermione..."

"It wasn't halfway across England," Ron commented, pulling her close as she turned to hug him. "It was just from Surrey to Devon."

"Through London!" Hermione commented crossly.

"_Over_ London, actually," Ron corrected her, which didn't make anything any better. She turned horrified eyes on Harry.

"You flew it over London?"

"Well..."

"Harry! Do you know how many muggle airplanes fly into London every day? You could have been..."

"I wasn't," Harry said. "Come on... have you eaten?"

"Of course I've eaten. It's three in the afternoon," she looked at him as though he'd lost his mind. "I could do with a cup of tea, though."

She talked non-stop as they led her through to the kitchens where the others waited. Amidst greetings and hugs, she turned back to Harry.

"Harry, Dumbledore told me to tell you that they would be here by six."

"Six?" Molly cried. "Six _tonight_?"

"I would assume so," Hermione looked surprised.

"But there is _nothing_ for a meal... Arthur, we must find what the village has available..."

"Hermione..." Harry looked carefully at her. "You've come to stay?"

"Of course, Harry. When Professor Dumbledore told me he was bringing your aunt here, well... I didn't want you to have to live with her here, alone, for a month."

"Thank you," he smiled. This might be bearable after all.

"Harry..." Hermione bit her lip. "You _do_ have a library?"

At which Harry began to laugh. Hermione would never change. At least, he hoped she wouldn't.

* * *

By five thirty, after a hurried trip to the village for basic supplies by Molly and Arthur, they were reasonably settled. Ron and Ginny had returned to the Burrow, getting their things, and Bill had done a quick review of the protection charms on the house, declaring them the tightest he'd ever seen.

Everyone noticed Harry's change in mood as six o'clock approached. He became quiet, sullen. Ron and Ginny attempted to cheer him, but he was quiet.

At six o'clock by the large clock on the kitchen wall, Harry stood and left the room. Ron, Ginny and Hermione traded glances and followed. He walked through, his intention obviously to head for the public lounge and the floo there, but as they were walking through the main hall, they were all startled by the bell.

Harry stopped with a jump. He hadn't expected Dumbledore to bring her through the front door. Changing direction, he approached the door and, with a deep breath, opened it.

Petunia Dursley stood stiffly on the front step, her back straight, her chin firmly lifted. But Harry could see the glint of fear in her eyes.

"Welcome to Potter Manor," he said softly.

* * *

_Wow – a LOT of reviews! Thank you so much, every one of you! I am reverting to the old standard, of only responding to those with a specific question or when I have something very specific to say. Otherwise, we'd be here a while, and I'm quite sure you would all prefer it if I spent that time writing..._

_CQ_

_**Rdprice29:** James' muses wouldn't dare! I just had to get Molly on the bike somehow..._

_**Cannonfodder:** Harry's responses may be borderline at times, but I have to admit that I often feel that way about Dumbledore's actions in the first place._

_**LarnaMandrea:** I rather like raging!Harry myself! It was actually after reading a portionof a JKR interview where she mentioned that the bike may well play a part in future books that made me think about this little detail... and it's rather fun writing Hagrid! I like Bill, too – he's a lovely character to write._

_**Merlindamage: **Where else but the Burrow? Sorry about the cliffie – I felt it was time..._

_**Pdlegirl:** Ginny action? Have you ever known any of my fics to NOT include some H/G fluffiness?_

_**Weselan:** Aww, really? That's so sweet! Thank you! You'll be happy to know that I now have right up to Chapter 13 now returned from my lovely beta, James Milamber. _

_**Bklynbecca:** Dumbledore is really only human himself. He may THINK he knows what's best but... well, read on._

_**Shotgunn:** Read on, my friend, read on..._

_**GiGiFanfic:** I love getting your reviews! Thanks!_

_**Nimbirose:** I'm glad you liked it that much! I promise, my stories are never without their H/G core..._

_**NuttyAl:** I don't think he's capable of being more pissed off... he just doesn't show it well. _

_**HarryPotterFan777777:** I hope this chapter answered some of your questions. Rest assured, more answers are coming (and more questions, of course!). Keep reading!_

_**GeeUnit:** Thank you! _

_**Pcb:** You know, I think I've said this before, but the greatest compliment I have ever received on my writing is likening it, in any way, to JKR... she is, IMHO, one of the best . Thank you so much for this. You're good for my ego!_

_**And to all my other lovely reviewers, thank you so much:** Quillian, IndiaInk, ThundersShadow, MysticRuby, Sabine Strohem-Moss, Aerri, Kitties-Rule878, Laraeliae Black, Ice-Phoenix-Tears, Kaleena Mason, Laxteuq, Kordolin, Nightwing509, Ima Quidditch Fan, MrsAliciaWeasley, Madame Maya, Lost.Somewhere.Out.There, Drowning Goldfish, Grookill, Seall, Zuzuanni, Agloechen, JediKnightBus, Lady of Masbolle, Siriusfanatic_

_CQ_


	6. Chapter Six: Aunt Petunia

Chapter Six: Aunt Petunia

Dumbledore followed Harry's aunt through the door into the large hall. Petunia's eyes widened as she looked around.

"This is..."

"This was my parent's home," Harry said in a low, quiet voice. "Not bad for an out-of-work drunk and his freak wife, hmm?"

Petunia had the good grace to flush as she glanced back at Harry, then to his friends who stood nearby. She, too, remembered the conversation between Vernon and his sister before Harry's third year.

"Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley..." Harry was determined to be polite. "My aunt, Petunia Dursley. Aunt Petunia, this is... my family."

Ron's eyes narrowed on the woman, and Ginny looked at Harry, her surprise at his introduction apparent. There was a soft look there, though, as she looked away. Hermione's eyes clouded for a moment as she looked at Harry, then hardened as she turned to his aunt.

"Mrs Dursley," she nodded, her eyes challenging the older woman.

Petunia nodded stiffly at them, her pride not allowing her to back down. Suddenly, Harry realized that he felt a thread of respect for her. She might have made a good Gryffindor, after all.

To his surprise, he felt a small hand grasp his, and he looked down into the chocolate brown eyes of Ginny Weasley.

"Harry, would you like me to take your aunt to her room?"

Harry gazed down at her for a moment, then nodded.

"Thank you, Gin," he realized that she knew how difficult this was. He was reaching his limit and she had somehow sensed that, and taken over at exactly the right time.

"Mrs Dursley?" Ginny turned to the older woman, indicating she should follow.

"Gin?" Harry's voice made her pause.

"Yes, Harry?"

"The blue room... at the end of the hall," Harry said. He simply wasn't capable of putting his aunt in the servant's quarters, as Ron had suggested earlier that he should.

Ginny nodded, her eyes holding his for a moment, before leading his aunt away.

"Harry...?" Ron said quietly.

"She's not a servant, Ron. She's here on sufferance, but I won't treat her the way I was treated in her home."

"Very admirable, Harry," Dumbledore said softly.

"Don't fool yourself," Harry said bitterly to the old headmaster. "I just want her to know that my mother didn't live as she's always said she did."

* * *

In the hallway above them, Ginny Weasley steamed. This woman, three feet away, had caused Harry more pain than Ginny could imagine, she knew. 

There had been no hugs or bedtime stories for the little boy who had been Harry. There had been no congratulations over good grades, or joy over his learning to ride a bicycle. There had been no tender touch when he was hurt, or comforting arms when he was sad.

He'd only been a frightened child, alone.

This woman, to Ginny's way of thinking, was the worst kind of monster. Yet somehow, Harry had turned out to be a wonderful, caring person.

Opening the last door on the right at the end of the hall, Ginny stepped in, closely followed by Petunia Dursley. She heard the small gasp, and smiled, turning blazing eyes on the woman.

"We wanted him to put you in the servants quarters in the attic," she said in her most polite tone, but her eyes still blazed. "Harry, however, has decided to put you here."

"Are you his...?" Petunia looked closely at the girl.

"I love him," Ginny stated baldly. "You'll find a lot of people here love Harry."

Petunia's grey eyes watched her carefully.

"If I were you, I'd be very careful about what I say, and to whom," Ginny continued. "We all know Harry's story... what of it we've managed to pry out of him. We know full well that he hasn't told us the worst of it, but even half of what we have been told is enough to make you some enemies here."

"I gave him a home..."

"You gave him a closet under the stairs," Ginny spat. "Be glad he didn't do the same to you."

Petunia's eyes were sparking now.

"And," Ginny said as she headed towards the door. "I'd watch out for my mother, if I were you. She doesn't like you much, and she's very protective of Harry. We all are. Dinner is in an hour. Be there, or I'll come and get you."

With that, Ginny closed the door behind her and sighed. Lord, how she hated that woman.

Ginny was surprised to find Harry standing, alone, in the front hall as she descended the main staircase. She watched him, watching her, and tried to put a smile on her face.

"All alone?" she asked, then mentally kicked herself. What a stupid thing to say!

"Waiting for you."

"Me?"

"I just wanted..." He glanced at the stairs.

"She's fine, Harry. I didn't even bat-bogey hex her."

He smiled, putting that brotherly arm around her again and leading her back towards the kitchens.

"I didn't think you would. Your mother raised you better than that," he teased, referring to Bill's earlier comment.

"How did you manage it?" she asked before she could stop herself, then flushed.

"What?"

"I'm sorry..."

"Gin? What do you mean?" he stopped in the doorway leading out of the main hall.

"How did you manage to become _you_ with only that for a mother?" she said, looking up at him, her dark eyes pained with the thoughts of the little, comfortless boy he'd been.

Harry shook his head. "She wasn't my mother, and I always knew it. I have her to thank for that, at least. She never treated me that way while claiming to be someone she wasn't."

Ginny looked confused.

"I knew mothers weren't like that, Gin. I saw... well, I saw others with their mothers and knew that if mine had lived, it would have been like that for me, as well. I never realized that someone could act like your mother without actually _being_ your mother until I met your mum."

Ginny's eyes flooded with tears.

"Gin... don't cry," he looked horrified. "I'm fine, really... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't... and you're more than fine, Harry. You're amazing. I only wish you could see that."

* * *

Dinner was rather stilted. Molly, being Molly, had insisted that they sit down in the formal dining room, to "do Harry proud", and the room was perfectly set to reflect the differences between this new role Harry's life had taken on, and that of the suburban muggle home he'd been raised in. 

Harry didn't know how Molly had managed to put this spread together in a little under two hours, but he was absolutely certain it involved magic. Copious amounts of it, actually, he decided, eyeing the roast potatoes and chicken.

Ginny had stayed close since their talk in the hall, and he instinctively held out her chair for her as they prepared to sit down to their meal. She smiled up at him, and his breath caught. He'd never really seen how pretty she was before.

Tearing his eyes away from the witch to his left, and looking down the table, he smiled. The Weasley's were a close family. He envied them. When he saw the tall figure in the doorway, he stilled. He hadn't really expected her to show up for the meal.

"Aunt Petunia," he greeted her. The mood in the room instantly changed.

Moving to the other side, directly across from Ginny, he held out a chair, and waited. After a moment's hesitation, Petunia Dursley stiffened her back and marched her tall, slim figure to the chair, and sat.

As he sat down between the two women, he glanced down the length of the table. Arthur, Molly, Bill, Ron and Hermione, and Dumbledore were also seated there. He smiled.

What a motley crew. If anyone had told him a month ago... a week... even that morning that he would be sitting down to this meal, in this house, with these people, he would have told them they were insane.

As Molly served, conversation returned. Harry listened as Hermione and Ron argued over his table manners, and Molly complained of the prices at the local village shop.

"Two galleons for a ham! I couldn't believe it..."

"Harry," Harry surfaced to meet his aunt's gaze. "Gravy?"

He took the offered bowl and nodded his thanks. Looking up again, he met Ginny's brown eyes.

"Alright?" She asked.

"Fine."

But her gaze didn't move, and he found he couldn't look away.

"Harry! Harry! Oi!"

Harry suddenly realized that Ron's voice was speaking to him, and looked down the table at his friend.

"Yes?"

"Want to check out the Quidditch pitch after dinner?"

Harry was about to respond when Dumbledore spoke, "I don't think that that is advisable, Harry."

"Oh?"

"I would appreciate it if you would hold off exploring the grounds until after we've had a chance to make sure that the wards are in place."

"Bill's already checked..."

"Just the house, Harry. No further," Bill took a swift drink from his water glass. "It will take me a couple days to make sure everything is as it should be."

Harry nodded. "Can you take the time?'

"I've... asked Bill to stay here for now, Harry. I hope you don't mind?"

Harry looked to the Headmaster. "Bill is welcome to stay for as long as he likes. I appreciate his help."

"I just want to be sure, Harry. It's imperative that we ensure your safety."

"Obviously," Harry said coolly, glancing at his aunt. "Whatever needs to be done."

"The estate is, of course, protected by a version of the Fidelius..."

Harry looked back to Dumbledore, startled. "Who?"

"Myself, and one other. It was set after..." the old wizard paused, then sighed and continued. "After."

"Who is the other?"

"Remus Lupin."

Harry thought he felt his aunt give a startled jump, but he decided he must have been mistaken. There was no reason for her to react at all to Remus' name, was there?

"Good... we're safe then."

"Yes, Harry."

"Safe?" his aunt's voice sounded weak. "Safe from _what_?"

Harry turned to his aunt, no hint of a smile on his face. "Death Eaters, Dementors, Voldemort. Take your pick."

Petunia Dursley's face went white.

"Relax, Aunt Petunia. My mother's freak blood protects us."

With that, thinking he couldn't take any more, Harry stood and thanked Molly, then left the room. Ginny followed him, and Ron was about to, but was stilled by Hermione's hand on his arm.

"Let her go to him," she said softly.

Ron looked at her. "You knew, too?"

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione shook her head.

Petunia Dursley laid her fork down next to her plate and sat silently. No one spoke, and after a moment, Molly stood. The men around the table all rose, as well, as they were taught to.

Petunia's eyes widened, remembering her husband and son's reactions when Harry had held her chair for her.

"Well, I suppose I should get busy with the clearing up," Ron's mother said brightly, trying to cover the atmosphere in the room. "I'm sorry to say this, Hermione, knowing how you feel, but there are times when I would dearly like a house elf or two."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Well, now, Molly. It is interesting that you should mention that."

"Albus?"

"The estate includes two house elves who have been here since Harry's grandparent's time. They've kept the house and grounds up, of course, but they are aging. How do you think Harry might feel about employing a couple of house elves from Hogwarts?"

Hermione grimaced.

"Miss Granger, we all know how you feel. However, a house of this size requires staff."

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "But..."

"But nothing, Hermione," Ron said firmly, very unlike Ron. "If we don't have someone, my mum is going to try to do it all."

"Ronald! I've been taking care of the Burrow for near on thirty years, love..."

"The Burrow would fit in Harry's lounge, Mum," Ron pointed out. "I'm sure that Harry wouldn't mind getting someone in."

Quietly, Petunia left the table and the room. She had rather a lot to think about.

* * *

Ginny caught up to Harry in the den. He sat on the sofa, looking at the portrait of his parents. 

"Harry?"

"I wish I'd known them, Gin. I wish I knew."

"Knew what?"

"If my mother was..."

"What, Harry?"

"If she was like Aunt Petunia... or like your mum."

Ginny sat next to him, taking his hand and looking at the portrait.

"She looks like..."

"She looks like you," he said softly.

Ginny was surprised. She didn't see much resemblance between the beautiful woman in the portrait and herself.

"No," she shook her head. "She was beautiful, Harry."

"So are you."

"Not like that."

Harry sighed, then looked back at the portrait before them.

"I don't think she was like your aunt, Harry," Ginny said after a moment.

"No? Why not?"

"Look at her. Her eyes are... different. She's happy."

"It was her wedding day, Gin."

"And your aunt's wedding pictures? Have you seen them?"

"They have one framed in the lounge."

"And does she look happy... like _that_ in it?"

"No," he admitted after a moment's consideration. "No, she doesn't. Not like that."

"How does she look?"

Harry thought for a moment, trying to remember details of the framed photo that had sat on top of the sideboard in the lounge of Privet Drive for as long as he could remember. "Satisfied."

"Satisfied?" Ginny sounded surprised. "Merlin, Harry, can you imagine that? A lifetime of just... content?"

"No. No, I can't imagine that."

"I want more than 'satisfied', Harry. I want fire... and joy. I think your parents had that. They _look_ like they had that."

"Three years."

"What?"

"They only had three years together."

"Wow," Ginny breathed, looking back at the picture of the happy young couple. Harry's dad looked young, no older than Harry. Ginny turned and looked at him. How long did Harry have?

They sat there, in silence, holding hands. Neither of them noticed the thin figure that came into the doorway behind them, her horrified hand to her mouth as she looked at the portrait on the wall, and then down to the two people sitting with their backs to her.

Petunia Dursley fled silently, believing she'd seen two of the many ghosts that had haunted her for years.

* * *

_Well, so far, you like? I'm hoping so... responses seem to be good, at any rate. _

_CQ_

_**Eternal Sleep:** I'm hoping to update daily from now on... but I don't normally update on weekends._

_**Kaleena Mason:** But to Harry, Potter Manor isn't his "home" - at least not yet. I think he'll always think of the Burrow as "home"... but this, right now, is just a house that his parents lived in. His reasons for wanting to stay there have more to do with them than any attachment he feels to his ancestral home itself._

_**CannonFodder:** Harry has some things to learn about Petunia first, I think. _

_**Ima Quidditch Fan:** Potter Manor is very well warded, and was then, but Dumbledore felt they would be well away, in a totally new location, which could be protected by a single Fidelius charm. Perhaps one more example of how Dumbledore's judgement was lacking at a very important time._

_**Nimbirosa:** Aww... poor you with a cold. February really sucks sometimes doesn't it? TRIPLET brothers who are NINE? Wow... I don't envy you – I have ONE nine year old who keeps me hopping... I can't imagine having three of him! I don't WANT to imagine it, actually! Some days I think I should have named him "Calvin"._

_**RdPrice29:** You know, I considered that..._

_**ThundersShadow:** I know what you mean... I don't think everyone in the wizarding world truly "gets" it... least of all, Dumbledore._

_**GeeUnit:** Thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying it... I'm going to try to update daily. The next couple weeks of my life are promising to be a bit of a roller coaster, but I'm hoping to get the remainder of the story up quickly._

_**LarnaMandrea:** As they say, the story is in the details... you do pick up on interesting elements, you know that?_

_**MysticRuby:** Molly is one of my favorite characters... and that scares me, because I think that JKR has Molly's days numbered... I am convinced that she's going to be one of the ones to "go" next. I can't really put my finger on it – but I think it has something to do with her not allowing them to grow up. I can't see her changing, and Ron and Ginny (not to mention Harry and Hermione) HAVE to grow up in the next two books. Either Molly has to change and become accepting of that (which I don't see happening), or JKR has to remove her from the equation. But I like writing Molly, she's so predictable._

_**Merlindamage:** Wise? Probably not. Interesting? Oh, definitely!_

_**GiGiFanfic:** I feel exactly the same way, Jeanne!_

_**Shotgunn:** Are you talking about Power of Truth? Kind of... it's funny, I have a mental image of Potter Manor in this story, and it didn't look anything like my mental image of Potter Manor in that story... until you mentioned it... now they seem to be morphing into each other._

_**RyougaZell:** Nah, no room at the Inn..._

_**Bklynbecca: **Don't worry, Gred and Forge will be making an appearance. As for the way I portray Hermione, I have this mental image of her. She's not unattractive, but I see her as more "plain Jane" and Ginny as more "the girl next door"... check out the artist Lisa Rourke (www dot harrypotterart dot org)... she has very much captured my mental images of the characters. Her "Ginny Weasley, age 16" just screams Ginny... and her "Harry and Ginny relationship" sketch is one of my favorites of all time._

_**LadyofMasbolle:** Do you think that Molly ever spent any time whatsoever considering the finances of other families? I think she's spent the vast majority of the past thirty years concentrating on Arthur and then, later, their family. Arthur, however, works at the Ministry, and is exposed to such information much more than Molly would be. As for the other... well, not a geneaology chart... but you may be close..._

_**PCB: **Now that would be far, far too easy, and there wouldn't be ANY story then, now would there?_

_**And to all the others who reviewed, thank you:** Agloechen, Nightwing509, Sabine Strohem-Moss, Weselan, Ice-Phoenix-Tears, BferBear,ShortyFaillace, Kordolin, SweetOklahoma_


	7. Chapter Seven: Learning

Chapter Seven: Learning

The following days became a pattern. Breakfast was on the sideboard by eight, and those not up in time fended for themselves. Dobby and Winky had shown up, and Dobby had joyfully told Harry how desperately he wished to serve. Harry had given the two of them free reign under the supervision of Molly. Molly was thrilled, never having had a house elf before. Hermione pursed her lips with disapproval, but held her tongue.

They'd fully explored the house, helped Bill with his investigation of the protective spells around the house and grounds, and played endless games of Wizard's Chess in the library while Hermione inspected the book collection.

Harry's aunt appeared at mealtimes, was quiet and restrained, and disappeared between times. Harry was perfectly happy with this arrangement.

One evening, after dinner, Harry was standing in the den gazing at the portrait of his parents when his eye was caught by a movement in the doorway. It was his aunt.

"Were you there?" he asked suddenly, surprising himself, and turning his green gaze on her.

She looked startled, she'd been looking at the portrait herself and Harry got the impression that she hadn't been aware of his presence.

"Yes."

"Uncle Vernon?"

"No. He wouldn't come."

"Yet you went."

"She was my sister."

Harry said nothing, his eyes not leaving hers. She flushed.

"You have her eyes," she said, a bit of her old bitterness back in her voice.

"So I've been told."

"Just the eyes. Not the expression in them. Lily's eyes were always happy."

Harry looked back at the portrait, to his mother's bright green eyes.

"I haven't had much to be happy about."

It was Petunia's turn to be silent, but only for a moment.

"You resemble your father. You're much more a Potter than ever you were an Evans."

"Perhaps that is for the best."

"Perhaps," she agreed. "But don't fool yourself. Your mother was the strong one."

"Is that why you didn't like him?"

"I didn't like him because he encouraged Lily to live in a fantasy world."

"What?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Make me understand."

Her eyes sparked with some of the old anger, as they met his. "He had this idea that they could fight this... this Dark Lord... and win. She believed him. It cost her her life."

"Peter Pettigrew cost her her life when he betrayed their trust."

"You believe what you want."

Harry took a breath, but said nothing.

"I took you in, after... and every day I looked at Lily's eyes... our father's eyes... in James Potter's face. But I gave you a home. I did my duty."

"Yes," Harry nodded. "Yes, you did your duty, Aunt Petunia. I'd just like to ask, though... if the positions had been reversed, how do you think my mother would have treated Dudley?"

At Petunia's dawning look of horror, Harry nodded, and silently left her standing, looking at the portrait on the wall above the fire.

To Petunia, the looks in their eyes had gone from joyful to accusing the moment Harry left the room.

* * *

The following day was Sunday, and the entire Weasley clan was due to descend on them at any moment. Molly was in her element, preparing the meal and happily giving orders to an equally happy pair of house elves.

The grounds had been declared safe by Bill and Ron had shown up in Harry's room at the crack of dawn that morning with his broom.

"Come on, Harry! Ginny and Bill are waiting... let's go have a fly around the Quidditch Pitch..."

He didn't have to ask twice. Harry was up, dressed and out the door with his Firebolt under his arm before Ron had time to get downstairs and tell the others that he was on his way. They spent a glorious morning flying around the pitch, throwing about an old Quaffle that Ron had found in the broom shed. Harry sighed happily, imagining his dad and Sirius, perhaps with Moony as well, doing the same thing years before on this very spot.

They came in to lunch, starved and rosy-cheeked from the exercise. Ginny walked next to Harry, happily teasing him that he made a better Seeker than Chaser.

"I'll leave the chasing to you," Harry said, then blushed at Ron and Bill's laughter. "I..."

"I know what you meant, Harry," Ginny said, glaring at her brothers. "Ignore the idiots."

Petunia watched from the top of the stairs as they made their way through the main hall and to the corridor leading to the kitchens. Watching Harry and Ginny was difficult. Watching them from behind was almost eerie, they reminded her so much of Lily and James.

"Petunia," a voice came from the den doorway. Petunia turned to look, and gaped.

"Remus?"

"In the flesh. What are you doing here?" he asked. His tone was even, but Petunia could tell, even from that distance, that there was fire in his pale blue eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Remus was silent, waiting.

"Dumbledore came for me," she said. "He said... he said that I needed to stay here until Harry could leave for school."

"He never gives up."

"What?"

Remus just shook his head.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I'm here for Harry."

"You..."

"He's James and Lily's son, Petunia. I've never been far away."

"I know," she admitted, swallowing uncomfortably.

"I promised James."

"As I promised Lily."

"Yes. How very differently we've undertaken the fulfillment of those promises."

"I've done my best, Remus."

"No, you haven't. But that's over now. The past, Petunia."

"You cannot judge me."

"Oh, but I can."

"You have no right," she choked.

"I think you'll find that I do. A lot of people care a great deal about Harry... and that gives us the right."

"I did my best," she repeated.

"No, you did _Vernon's_ best, Petty. You were capable of much more... your heart held much more."

"My heart never did anything but get me into more trouble than it was worth, Remus," she spat out, her face reddening with remembered anger.

Remus' eyes held pain for a moment, then he nodded. "You've certainly made that clear."

And with that, the werewolf turned and headed for the kitchens, leaving Petunia Dursley standing alone.

She followed, a moment later, and entered the kitchen in time to see Harry's reunion with his father's friend. She was shocked by the moisture in her own eyes as she watched them embrace. It was almost like seeing James and Remus together again.

Until Harry turned glowing green eyes and saw her. Then, the shutters were drawn.

"Aunt Petunia."

She nodded her greeting, then went to help Molly move dishes to the dining room. Molly was surprised at first, but quickly gave her instructions as she was with everyone else.

As Weasley children continued to arrive, Petunia marveled at the interactions. She remembered the twins, but she had them in her mind's eye as difficult troublemakers. Seeing them with their siblings and parents... with Harry and Hermione, brought to mind uncomfortable memories of two other young pranksters from twenty years before.

When the rather straight-laced Percy ate a biscuit from a seemingly innocent tray and promptly turned into a chicken, Petunia gave a violent start of surprise, then took a deep, steadying breath.

"It's okay, he'll change back in a minute," said Harry, who had appeared at her elbow.

"He..."

"It's just the twins. They do this all the time. It wears off."

He was proven right the next moment when Percy changed back and his furious clucking turned into sibling put-downs as he lit into Fred and George about being childish.

Fred and George, however, laughed it off, clapping him on the back and smiling until all three were laughing together.

"Percy's a bit... stiff," Harry explained. "Takes him a minute to loosen up after they've done something like that."

"Bit stiff?" Ron commented from nearby. "He's got a bloody iron rod stuck up his..."

"Ronald Weasley!" Molly came through and handed him a bowl of potatoes, glaring in a very un-motherly fashion at him. Percy had only recently returned to them, and Molly wasn't about to risk further estrangement. "Language!"

"Sorry, Mum," Ron smiled and delivered the bowl to the table.

Petunia looked on, somewhat shocked at the interplay.

"It can be overwhelming," Harry said softly. "At first. The first time I saw them together... well, I didn't know quite what to make of it."

"Yes... I can see."

Harry looked sadly at her. "This is what it should have been like, Aunt Petunia."

Her grey eyes met his, and she sighed.

"Our family is different."

"Our family? We don't have a family, Aunt Petunia," he said quietly, then moved away, only to be pulled to the side by Bill and another of the Weasley siblings.

She watched as the newcomer described something to Harry, his hands gesticulating, a grin on his face.

"Dragons."

"Excuse me?" she turned to see Ron standing, staring hard at her.

"Dragons. Charlie is, once again, relating what it looked like from the sidelines when Harry took on the Horntail."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

Ron looked at her, a sad understanding in his eyes. "You really don't know, do you? In our fourth year... the TriWizard Tournament?"

"The what?"

"Harry went up against a Horntail. Got past it and captured it's egg. He won the tournament."

"By... outsmarting a dragon?"

"Amongst other things," Ron confirmed cryptically, studying her carefully for a moment. Petunia felt like she'd been laid open, judged lacking, and closed back up again, dismissed for the foreseeable future. "I never could believe it when he said you wouldn't care... but you really couldn't care less, could you?"

And with that, Ron turned and walked away. For some reason, it made Petunia feel ashamed.

She turned back in time to see Charlie with a brotherly arm around Harry's shoulders. Harry's face was animated as he said something.

Then, he laughed.

Petunia was struck by the sudden realization that she had never, ever, seen Harry laugh. She was even more struck by the fact that, not only did he have his mother's eyes, but his laughter was a haunting reminder of her dead sister, as well.

* * *

Ginny walked with her wand held out in front of her. The dim glow from the tip was enough to light her way without disturbing anyone else.

She didn't know why she had woken so suddenly, or why she felt compelled to go downstairs, but she knew that she had to. As she made her way down the main staircase, she could see the dim light from under the door to the den. It flickered.

A candle was burning in there.

Quietly, she extinguished her wand light and padded on bare feet to the door. It was open only a crack. Silently, she pushed it open.

She was mistaken. It wasn't a candle, but the dim light from a fire in the hearth. Harry sat on the couch, staring at the portrait. Silently, she moved around the sofa to sit beside him.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Me, neither," she said. "Would you like a cup of tea or something?"

"No," he said, then turned to look at her. "But thank you."

Ginny smiled.

"What?" he asked.

"You never forget your manners."

"Oh yes I do. Frequently."

"Like when?"

"Like when I'm throwing expensive and irreplaceable artifacts around Dumbledore's office. When I think of Cornelius Fudge, or Delores Umbridge..."

"Oooh..." Ginny's eyes darkened with fury. "That woman!"

"When I'm so busy feeling sorry for myself," he continued, leaning back against the upholstery and putting an arm around her. "That I forget to thank my friends for sticking by me."

"Hmmm... yes," she nodded teasingly as she pulled her bare feet up under her. "Yes... we've all noticed that one."

"Have you?"

"Of course!" she grinned, snuggling in under his arm and against his side for warmth. "Terribly blind, you are!"

She looked up at him, only to realize that he was turned to look down at her, and has face was only inches away from her own. Ginny swallowed nervously.

"Blind? Yes... yes, I've definitely been blind."

"Harry?" she whispered, her eyes lowering to his lips, then rising again to his eyes.

"Ginny... can I...?"

"Please," she nodded.

And he kissed her, his soft lips covering hers and his right hand coming up to cup her cheek. He was so gentle, she felt tears come to her eyes... eyes that opened as he pulled away.

"Gin...?"

"Don't you dare apologise," she whispered hoarsely. "You'll break my heart if you apologise."

"I wasn't..." he looked down at her, into her frightened, wary eyes, and pulled her close. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Gin. Please don't cry."

"You only hurt me when you pull away, Harry."

"Gin?"

"Don't you see? Or can't you?"

"I..."

"Harry," she placed her hands on his cheeks, and forced him to look at her, to look into her eyes. "Look at me. What do you see?"

"I see... you. I see Ginny."

"In my _eyes_, Harry. What do you see when you look into my eyes?"

"I..." Harry looked. "I see... I don't know. I don't know what it is, Ginny."

"Harry," she said sadly, her tears returning. "It's love, Harry."

He looked into her eyes for so long, Ginny thought he hadn't heard her. Just when she had given up, was about to rise and leave, he pulled her close again, his lips desperately searching hers.

Ginny sighed and opened to him.

They were both unaware of the figure in the doorway behind them who stood and watched for a moment before turning and silently closing the door behind her as she left them alone.

* * *

_Holy cow, folks! 29 reviews in ten hours... I think that that is some kind of record for me! I appreciate everyone's comments... I'm really enjoying writing this one, and that's due, in no small part, to the fantastic reviews I'm getting – thank you!_

_CQ_

_**Weselan:** Hmm, I wonder...?_

_**Lourdes:** Well, I might as well use my imagination for fanfic writing, it'd probably get me in trouble otherwise..._

_**Kazzidal:** Thank you! It's lovely to be called someone's number one..._

_**GiGiFanfic:** Patience, Jeanne... do I ever leave you hanging... well, permanently? No... I wouldn't do that!_

_**LarnaMandrea: **I love getting your reviews... I really, really do!_

_**CannonFodder:** Ah, you know, there is a time and place for tooth-aching sweetness. This story, however, is about seeing things in a different light._

_**JT:** I like new readers! I like old readers, too... as a matter of fact, anyone who takes the time to read my drivel and respond in a positive way, I like a lot! Thanks!_

_**SabineStrohemMoss:** Oh, Petunia and Remus definitely knew each other... _

_**Shotgunn:** As usual, you're in my head, making wild guesses that just might lead you to the correct answer... _

_**ThundersShadow:** There are definitely some... realizations coming._

_**Siriusfanatic:** Your keyboarding skills are coming along nicely, then. Keep it up, it's a valuable skill._

_**Nimbirosa:** Aw, motherhood is wonderful. You don't even notice the diaper thing... and childbirth, well, the best thing I can say about it is it's an experience that you cannot fully appreciate until you've done it. Valentine's Challenge, huh? Well, we'll see._

_**Cara:** Wow, thanks! You have no idea of how much good reviews like that do me._

_**And to all the others, you are wonderful:** Bobboky, SaerrySnape, Nightwing509, DavidMPotter, MadEyeJr, IndiaInk, Rdprice29, MrsAliciaWeasley, SilverWarrior, Agloechen, Bahjcb_

_CQ_


	8. Chapter Eight: Conversations

Chapter Eight: Conversations

Harry stood beside the small lake watching as a white bird flew and dove in the sky above him. He knew how she felt... he knew the feeling from riding his broom. The absolute freedom of diving and rolling on the wind.

"Beautiful," a voice said from behind him. He turned to see his aunt gazing up at the sky, at the bird as it flew.

"You don't normally think so," he commented.

"I love birds."

"Not this one," Harry whistled, and the white form dropped in a stunning dive, circled once, and came to rest on his uplifted arm.

"Hedwig," Harry smiled. "Meet Aunt Petunia."

"Your owl," she commented dryly.

"Or pigeon... as you prefer."

"No pigeon," she said softly, admiring the bird's white plumage.

"No," Harry agreed. "She's a Great Snowy Owl. Not native to these parts, but she's happy here."

"Where did you...?"

"She was a birthday present. My first birthday present."

"No, it wasn't."

Harry turned sparking green eyes on her.

"Your first birthday party... your mother spent months shopping for gifts for you, only to find out on the day that your father had, as well."

"How did you...?"

"She told me."

"You had nothing to do with her after Dudley was born... even before that... after you were married."

"That's not quite accurate," Petunia said, her voice taking on a bit of the hauteur that Harry was accustomed to. "Our families had nothing to do with one another. Vernon hated your father, and the feeling was mutual. But Lily and I always knew what was going on in each other's lives."

"How?"

"We wrote."

"You _wrote_?" he spat.

Ignoring his tone, Petunia turned away.

"What house were you sorted into?" she asked suddenly.

He looked at his aunt, then moved closer.

"Gryffindor, although..."

"Just like your mother," she said sharply, although Harry could tell she had not meant it to come out that way.

"Yes," he said, watching her closely. "Although the Sorting Hat had other ideas at the time."

She turned and looked at him, "What do you mean?"

"When the Sorting Hat was first put on my head by Professor McGonagall, it wanted to put me in Slytherin."

She gasped, but said nothing.

"I begged it not to. I asked to be put in Gryffindor."

She staggered, but righted herself as Harry reached to steady her.

"Are you alright?"

"I didn't know...I didn't know that you could ask it for the house you wanted..."

"I didn't either. It just happened." Harry waited, sure that there would be more. Perhaps he was simply hoping, after all these years, to make a connection with a family member, but he waited.

"You know about Daisy." It was a statement.

"Dumbledore told me."

"You know what happened."

"Just that she was attacked in the Forbidden Forest. That she went in on a dare, and that you left afterwards."

"I couldn't stay. I hated that your mother chose to go. I hated that she was sorted as I felt I should have been. I hated that school, and everyone in it. When you mother chose to marry your father... well. You may think I am cruel, but I refuse to allow the Dark Arts to take anything more from me. Dudley and Vernon will never know what it is to wait for a parent, a spouse, to come home from a long day of raids on Dark Wizards' homes... or know the risks that are taken even by a Squib... like my father. I don't want it in my home."

"Aunt Petunia, I understand. I really do. But you need to understand that it isn't just the wizarding world that is affected by Voldemort..."

She gasped, "You _dare_ to say his name?"

"There is no power in the name, Aunt Petunia, only in the fear of it. I have faced him five times. I have dueled with him..."

"You?" She was obviously stunned. "You are a boy... just a boy! How can you have faced the Dark Lord? You have no idea..."

"Oh, yes. I do. The first time I faced him I was eleven years old, and I defeated him then. The second, I was twelve... and I battled a basilisk to defeat him. Since then I have personally faced him three more times, and many times I have faced the Death Eaters."

"But you're still a student!"

"Yes, but I'm also Harry Potter. I'm the Boy Who Lived."

"I..."

"There is a prophecy. Either I will defeat Lord Voldemort, or he will defeat me. So I'm not doing this to disrupt your home, or hurt you. I'm doing it because no one else can, and someone has to. I'm doing it because no matter what I do, he will always come after me. The people I love will never be safe until I fulfill the prophecy, and I assure you, I do not plan on losing. He killed my parents, robbed me of anything approaching a normal life. I don't plan on stopping until he is defeated and destroyed."

Aunt Petunia stared at him for a moment, then turned away.

"There is a wizarding family... a family that has spent the greater part of the last ten generations linked to the Dark Arts, and... practices that are looked upon..." she paused for a moment, then continued in an undertone. "If you are in danger from anyone it will be them. Their son was the one who made the dare that day... he was the one who made Daisy go into the Forbidden Forest, taunting her, telling her that she was sorted wrong, that if I was in Slytherin, so should she be, that the great Gryffindor courage and loyalty were not within her... Harry, I may not agree with your decision, and I may not want you in my home, but neither Lily nor Daisy would ever forgive me if I didn't warn you... beware of Lucius Malfoy and any of his family."

Harry stood rooted to the spot for a moment. He didn't turn, but stood, shocked rigid. After a moment, he bowed his head and said softly, "You know, Aunt Petunia, I believe the Sorting Hat was wrong. You should have been a Gryffindor."

A moment later, as though the last five minutes of conversation had never happened, she smiled coolly and turned back, towards the house. Before moving away, she spoke.

"Somewhere around here is a box... Lily told me she left it at James' family home. She packed it before they went into hiding. Your birthday gifts are in it."

And as she walked away, Harry was left standing, dumbfounded.

* * *

As she stepped into the main hallway through the front door, Petunia was surprised to see Remus standing in the doorway to the den.

"Remus."

"Petty."

"Please don't call me that."

"Why not? Lily did."

"Exactly," she replied, her eyes sparking at him.

"You know, Petunia, I often wonder what your friends... your family... would think if they knew how different you've become."

Petunia allowed her eyes to meet those of the werewolf.

"I'm not different."

Remus laughed. "Petunia, you couldn't be more changed if you tried. I told you that this would happen."

Her eyes flew back to his. "How dare you?"

"I dare, Petty, because of that boy out there. I made a promise, as did you. I've kept mine, but you..."

"It seems to me that we only either of us kept half our promises, Remus."

"My promises never meant anything to you, Petty."

"They would have, had you really meant them," she said softly.

"I did mean them... I meant every word I ever said to you."

She was silent, not looking at him.

"Vernon Dursley ruined you, Petunia Evans."

"Vernon saved me!"

"From who?"

"Myself!" she spat, then quickly went up the stairs. Remus watched until she disappeared.

"Remus?"

He turned to find Harry standing in the doorway, watching him with a hard look in his eyes.

"Harry..."

"Remus," Harry glanced up the stairs to where his aunt had disappeared. "I think you and I need to talk."

Remus glanced back up the stairs, then back to Harry. "Yes, I think you're right, Harry."

"Tell me, Remus," Harry said softly as they closed the study door behind them.

"Tell you what, Harry?"

"You know my Aunt Petunia."

"Yes, of course."

"No," Harry watched the other man carefully. "I mean you knew her... before, didn't you?"

Remus sighed. "Petunia was your mother's sister, Harry. We all knew her."

Harry waited.

"Petunia was... well, at first, she was just around. Your grandmother was a rather old-fashioned witch, and Petunia was required to go everywhere with your mother... as a chaperone. Your grandparents were good people, Harry... but they didn't really know what to make of Lily... and her four male best friends."

"Aunt Petunia wasn't like she is now?"

"No. She was... quiet. Bitter at times, but behind it all... there was this girl... this girl who had been badly hurt. She was fun, too. She had a wickedly cutting sense of humor..."

"What happened?"

Remus' eyes darkened, and he straightened in his chair. "Vernon Dursley happened."

"Uncle Vernon?"

"He came into her life that last summer before our seventh year. Your aunt was nineteen. He had a very clear idea of how his life was going to be, and Petunia fit the bill. She rather thought she did, too. She made a choice."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, surprised by the bitter note in Remus' voice. Remus was never bitter, at least, not in Harry's memory.

"Vernon was about as far removed as it was possible to be from the magical world, Harry. She didn't have to be reminded of it every day with him. She could forget it existed. I suppose it worked for a while."

"Until my parents died."

"Yes. Until then," Remus agreed. "Your aunt... she and your mother exchanged promises when they found they were both pregnant. Lily told James, but I don't know that Petunia told Vernon. It was her last promise to your mother, Harry... they promised to always care for each other's children, should the need arise."

_Remember my last, Petunia..._ Harry felt a shiver has he remembered the howler.

"Who..."

"Dumbledore has used that promise over the years to reinforce her duty to you."

"The son of a..."

"Harry, don't judge him before you know all the reasons he's acted as he has."

"You can _excuse_ that?"

"I'm not excusing anything. I've been as upset with him as you, over the years. But he _did_ have his reasons, reasons you don't know."

"So tell me."

"It's not my place, Harry. Talk to Dumbledore."

"I intend to."

The silence seemed to stretch out. "Was Mum like my aunt... or was she like Molly?" Harry asked after a moment.

Remus' eyes shone with remembrance. "She wasn't like either of them, Harry. Lily was... unique."

"How?"

"She was... well, she was just Lily. There's never been any one else like her... and never will be. She was fire... and ice. She could cut you with a word, but was always the first one in line to help you if you needed help. She had a heart too big for her own good, but had the ability to tell you off with style, as well. She was a firebrand..."

"You loved her," Harry said softly.

"Everyone did, Harry. I did, but not in the way you mean. Lily changed the lives of anyone she came in contact with. She's... missed. Terribly."

"You didn't..."

"No. Not Lily. She was like a sister to me, Harry. Would have been, had I... asked."

Harry sensed that Remus was done with this line of questioning, and turned back.

"Was she a good mother? To me?"

"The best. She died for you."

"That's not what I mean."

"You mean, would she have become a Molly Weasley?"

"Maybe."

"No. She wouldn't have been anything like Molly. Lily wasn't the cookie-baking, homemaking kind of woman, Harry. She had far too much energy and natural curiosity... No, Lily would have had you off exploring the world. She loved the outdoors, freedom. Had she tried to be like Molly, she would have gotten sidetracked by something... the opportunity to learn something... or someone needing help. She wasn't very organized... but she was very, very intelligent. And she adored you."

Remus smiled, looking intently at Harry.

"What?"

"Now that I think about it, she does remind me of someone."

"Who?"

"Ginny Weasley."

* * *

_Another one down, folks... wow, I am seriously impressed with the response that I'm getting to this story!_

_**Shotgunn:** Scott, darling, you sound like you expect me to leave you all hanging... would I do that? _

_**Apate137:** Pleading puppydog eyes do it to me every time..._

_**Rdprice29:** I think Petunia and Harry both have things to learn._

_**FriendofDobby:** Thank you for your lovely comments. As for Uncle Vernon... we'll have to wait and see!_

_**Akemi:** Probably, but that isn't the focus of this fic._

_**Nimbirosa:** I'm glad to have responded to your challenge – it was fun!_

_**LarnaMandrea:** And once again, she picks out several of the pivotal bits to comment upon! You really have a knack for that, you know?_

_**RyougaZell:** I'm absolutely certain that Vernon isn't cooking... perhaps Marge came to stay... who knows? As for the twins... well, they don't play a big part in this part of the story... it's about people making assumptions... judgements... on others... and the realization that nothing is ever black and white. And Harry's thickness does seem to be an ongoing theme, doesn't it?_

_**PCB:** I have a feeling (my own) that that resemblance is more than just passing... I think the fact that Harry looks so much like James (which is really harped on in every book), is going to prove to be a major plot clue when JKR finally ties up all the loose ends... I'm not sure how yet, but I'm absolutely certain that there is something more there than coincidence or plain genetics... she's definitely seeded that seemingly innocent little clue in many places throughout the series._

_**ADJ:** Being a redhead myself, I can assure you that my views on this are not "based on some fallical notion that all red heads look alike". Indeed, there have been specific references to the fact that Ginny is redheaded, as was Lily, in canon (please don't ask me for page numbers right now, I don't have the books in front of me), but my adding that the resemblance is more than mere haircolor is simply a plot item in MY stories, and little else. A little foible of my own that, IMHO, will prove to be a **factor** in canon. And I would certainly never suggest that Harry would eventually get together with Ginny based on her resemblance to his mother... that's just a little too Oedipal... even for me._

_**Lady of Masbolle:** My writing style is kind of "purge and edit"... I tend to push out ten chapters at a time and then go dry for a month..._

_**And to all the rest, I thank you:** Ice-Phoenix-Tears, SabineStrohemMoss, Wren Truesong, CannonFodder, Kazziedal, Bobboky, Agloechen, NuttyAl, MysticRuby, Nightwing509, Merlindamage, DavidMPotter, ImaQuidditchFan, IndiaInk, lovehpstories, Kordolin, LilyMalfoy13, Lost.Somewhere.Out.There, Bklynbecca, PurpleRivAngel, ThundersShadow, Jen, Weselan, Kaleena Mason, OnlySecret, kudoran, tanydwr, GiGiFanfic_

_CQ_


	9. Chapter Nine: Ginny

Chapter Nine: Ginny 

On the morning of August tenth, Harry woke with a start, remembering what it had been that had been at the back of his mind for several days, bothering him, but not quite letting itself be known.

Tomorrow was Ginny's birthday. Her sixteenth birthday.

Jumping out of bed, he quickly showered and dressed, and was downstairs before anyone but Molly was up.

"Mrs Weasley?"

"Good morning, love," Molly said, turning from the stove.

"Good morning... I need to talk to you."

"What is it, love?"

"It's about tomorrow..."

"Yes?"

"Ginny's birthday."

Molly smiled. "I know love. I was there, remember?"

Harry flushed. "Well, she's sixteen... I was wondering if... well, would she like a party... or anything?"

"What a lovely thought, dear... we..." Molly suddenly stopped and looked at him, horrified.

"What?"

"Oh, Harry... I'm so sorry!"

"For what?"

"With everything, the day we came here... we forgot!"

"Forgot what?"

"Harry... that was your birthday! Your seventeenth! Your coming of age!"

"It's okay, Mrs Weasley... I got what I wanted for my birthday... the best gift I could have wished for."

"I know you love that bike, love."

"The bike?" Harry laughed. Funny how he'd not even thought of it since leaving it at the Weasley's that day. "I wasn't talking about the bike. I was talking about being with all of you."

"Oh, love!" Molly looked like she was close to tears again, and Harry shifted uncomfortably. Why did women always cry around him? What was he supposed to do when they did?

"Ginny's birthday..." he changed the subject quickly, recognizing a pending Molly-moment when he saw one, and not feeling equipped to deal with it right then. "Did you have anything... well, planned?"

"No, love. Just the family and a cake."

"Is that... would she like something... bigger?"

"Bigger, how?" Molly looked at him curiously.

"Well... I don't know. A party?"

"When you get our whole family together, love, you tend to end up with a party," Molly laughed.

"No... I meant..." Harry flushed. "Was there anyone... special... you think she might like to have around?"

"Ah..." Molly watched him carefully as she dried her hands and carried two tea cups to the table. "Special?"

"Well..." Harry flushed harder.

"I think that there might be someone," Molly sat, pouring tea for each of them from the pot she'd sat on the table earlier.

"Oh..." Harry nodded, trying hard to not feel upset. Of course Ginny had someone. He _had_ read too much into that kiss in the den...

"As a matter of fact, I've not heard her go on about anyone as much as this one young man."

"Oh... well... maybe..." Harry swallowed. "If she wants him to be here..."

"Oh, I'm sure she does," Molly smiled.

"I..." Harry stood, knowing he needed to get out for a bit... cool off.

"Harry... sit down."

"I... I think I'm going to go out for a bit... I..."

"Harry, I'm teasing you."

"What?"

"Harry Potter... I know you have difficulties sometimes seeing what's right in front of you, but even you can't be so blind as to not see how Ginny feels about you?"

Harry swallowed, tried to speak, but found he couldn't.

"Now, like every other birthday, there will be a cake, and gifts... and family. And Ginny will be thrilled with it all, because this year, she'll have you and Hermione, as well, and Remus... and maybe we can even talk Dumbledore into dropping by, hmm?"

"Okay, Mrs Weasley."

"Oh, and Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Next time you want to know if Ginny is seeing someone, perhaps you ought to ask her?"

Harry turned scarlet, "Okay, Mrs Weasley."

And with that, he raced from the room, heading for his own.

"Harry!" Hermione called out from the door to her room as he raced past... and he slowed. "Where's the fire?"

Harry turned to her, his ears still burning, and she began to grin.

"Oh. I see," she laughed. "Well, Ginny didn't cause it because she's still in bed... so I'm betting on Molly?"

"What...?"

"Never mind," Hermione smirked, a rather knowing look on her face.

"Hermione..." Harry took a breath. "I was thinking about Ginny's gift... her birthday is tomorrow."

"I know," Hermione smiled. "But you can't go into Diagon Alley, Harry... not without someone along..."

"I don't need to go into Diagon Alley... I... I know what I want to give her... but... I was wondering..."

"What?"

"I'm not very good at wrapping," he admitted sheepishly.

"Where is it?" she sighed, shaking her head.

Harry smiled, took her hand and started off sprinting down the hall, Hermione being dragged along behind. Racing along the corridor, he dragged Hermione into the last room, and closed the door behind them.

"Harry, is this...?"

"My parent's bedroom, as best as I can tell."

Hermione looked around, seeing the framed pictures on the dresser, of people she didn't know.

Until she saw the one next to the bed.

"Oh, Harry... look!"

"I saw it," he said softly, watching as she picked up the framed picture of an infant, a shock of black hair over dancing green eyes.

"Did you know..."

"I saw the room the first day... but I came back later, alone, to explore it. I... I've spent a couple nights in here."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione's eyes filled with tears.

"It's okay, Mione... really. I'm okay."

"Are you really?"

"I'm better now than I have been in a long, long time," he said. "Now, look at this."

Going to the desk, he pulled out the drawer, and from it took a black box. It was obviously heavy, and Hermione thought it might be made of onyx.

"What is it?"

"It's a writing set," Harry said. "I showed it to Remus and he said that it was my mother's."

"Oh, Harry..."

"I thought... Ginny might..."

"She'll love it."

"Will she? It's not..."

"Harry, it's a lovely gift. Especially since you've only just found it yourself. It must mean a lot to you..."

"Well... so does Ginny," he flushed.

Hermione's eyes lit, and she sat down on the bed. "Go on, then."

"Go on... what?"

"Tell me what Ginny means to you."

"Mione..."

"Harry... it's no secret, you know. I've just been waiting for _you_ to realize it."

"You... you knew?"

"I've known for a while, Harry. You can't hide the way you look at her."

"But... but I've just figured it out... how did _you_ know?"

Hermione shrugged, smiling one of those annoying _girl_ smiles. "I just did."

Harry, deciding a change of subject was in order, looked at her through narrowed eyes.

"Okay... what's going on with you and Ron, then?"

"What?" Hermione looked shocked.

"Oh, come on, Mione... if it's obvious to _me_, do you really think that no one else has noticed? I'm not exactly the most intuitive bloke around."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said stiffly, not meeting his eyes. But Harry saw the slight flush around her neck. Dead giveaway.

"He likes you, too, you know."

"He does?" she turned to him eagerly, her flush heightening as she realized what she'd done.

Harry raised his eyebrows at her.

"Oh, alright, already! Yes, I like him. More than like him, sometimes, I think. But he never so much as..."

"And he won't, Mione."

"Why not?"

"Because he's Ron. You'll have to make the first move, you know."

"No way!"

"Well, if you really wanted..."

"Don't you try reverse psychology on me, Harry Potter. I've been using it on you and Ron for the past six years... I'm a master, and I recognize it when I see it."

Harry smiled, and shrugged.

"You really think I need to..."

"Look, he's wanted to... well, he's liked you since before fourth year. Has he done anything yet?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't _know_, Harry, that's the point."

"Mione... you're pretty, you're smart... and your family is very, very well off."

"So?" she said, flushing at his compliments.

"So, if the first two aren't enough to make him think twice, the third one is. Ron has a real thing about his family not having much money. You know he'd never think you'd..."

"I don't _care_ about things like that."

"I know you don't, or I wouldn't be telling you this. Go to him, make the first move, and tell him how you feel. Ron's not going to, so if you want him, you're going to have to."

"You really think so?"

"Yes."

"If you're wrong, Harry Potter..."

"You and Ginny get to take turns bat-bogey hexing me daily for the rest of the summer."

"Wow," she smiled. "You are pretty sure, then, aren't you?"

"Never more so."

"Okay. But in my own time, and in my own way. Understood?"

"Sure."

"I swear, Harry, if you say one _word_ about this conversation with anyone..."

"What conversation was that, Mione?" he stood, handing her the box.

"The one about my wrapping this present for you, of course."

"Ah, that one. Can you put it in my room when you're done?"

"Better yet, I'll wrap it in there. Ginny is still in our room, and she could wake up at any moment."

"Thanks, Mione."

"Anytime, Harry. Although..."

"Although?"

"I think," she said as she moved towards the door, an evil little smile on her face. "That I know something Ginny would like more."

"A Firebolt?" Harry laughed. "Fred and George bound and gagged?"

"How about a Harry Potter with a red ribbon and a cherry on top?" she said naughtily before closing the door behind her, missing entirely Harry's lightning quick flush of pure embarrassment.

* * *

Dawn the following day, Ginny's birthday, found Harry sitting at the edge of the lake, staring out over the misty surface. It was cool, and damp, but the morning sun would soon burn that off. It was quiet here, and he found that, right now, he desperately needed the quiet to think.

He was thinking of the kiss in the den. Ginny had nearly cried when he pulled away, and she'd said she loved him. He'd thought she meant... well, as the Weasley family loved each other.

Maybe he'd been wrong. According to Hermione...

He sighed. What was he going to do? He knew what he _wanted_ to do... but was that what would be best for Ginny? He had a Dark Lord to defeat. What if he failed?

And what if he put Ginny in danger? What if it was common knowledge that he cared about her? Wouldn't that make her a target? He knew he wouldn't be able to bear it if Tom got to her again, he'd barely survived the last time.

And that made him think. How long had he felt this way? How long...

A very long time, he realized. He'd never been very happy about her and Michael Corner... or her and Dean for that matter, despite the fact that that had ended after the first time Dean came into their dorm late, talking about his great date, and Ron had given him a black eye. Dean had backed off very quickly after that, and Harry could only remember a certain sense of... satisfaction.

He freely admitted that if Ron hadn't done it, he would have... but he'd always dismissed it as a brotherly affection. Only one didn't kiss their sister in the way that he'd kissed Ginny the other night.

Which brought up another rather interesting consideration. What would Ron's reaction be? Did he care?

_Of course I care,_ he thought. _But it wouldn't stop me..._

And that answered his question of himself. Ginny Weasley, somehow over the past five years, had become more important to him than his own best friend, someone who had stood by him through some of the worst times of his life. He had no idea how it had happened…but it had.

He cared, it would hurt if Ron wasn't happy about it, but being with Ginny... that was more important.

Sighing, he stood, and made his way back to the house. He had to talk to Ron.

He found him still snoring, which wasn't surprising considering it was just after six. Harry closed Ron's door behind him, and put up a privacy charm. He didn't want anyone overhearing this particular conversation. Particularly at six in the morning. Particularly if it got loud.

Which, knowing Ron and his protective attitude towards his sister, it probably would.

"Hey, Ron... wake up."

"Ooommmaaapphff..." Ron rolled over, burying his head in his pillow and completely ignoring Harry.

"Ron, come on, I need to talk to you. Wake up."

"Harry... bloody hell, don't you ever sleep?" Ron grumbled, opening one eye to glare at his friend.

"Not often," Harry replied dryly, watching from where he sat in a chair pulled up beside the bed as Ron's other eye slowly opened.

"What do you want, Potter? And make it good. I was having a really, really good dream."

"About who? Or can I guess?"

"Shut up," Ron said over a yawn as he sat up and rubbed one hand over his face. "What time is it?"

"Six."

"Bloody hell, Harry! Why can't you ever want to talk at a decent hour?"

"Hey... you and Mione are the ones who are always on me about keeping things to myself. I come to you, and look what I get," Harry laughed.

"Shut it," Ron scooted back against the headboard of his bed, pulling the covers up to his waist, and folded his hands in his lap. His hair, which he hadn't allowed Molly to cut in months because he'd overheard Parvati and Lavender saying they liked it long, stuck out at odd angles, and he looked utterly ridiculous.

Harry smirked.

"Hey... just because you look like this _all_ the time..."

"Not like that, mate," Harry denied.

"Yeah, whatever. So talk, already."

"Ron... I need to ask you something..."

"What?"

"Ginny..."

"What about her?"

"Ron... I know you've been a bit... concerned... over the blokes she's dated in past..."

"Is that what this is about? And it couldn't have waited until a decent hour... preferably after breakfast?"

"No."

"Bloody hell, Harry, this isn't easy on an empty stomach, you know."

Harry flushed. "Look, I just wanted..."

"Yeah, mate... I know what you want. Okay, here's the canned speech, okay? Hurt her and you'll have six Weasley men after your balls... we'll make you eat them while we watch. Dad'll help."

"Ummm... what?"

"Well, that was what this was about, right?"

"I don't..."

"Look, Harry, I love my sister. She's a right pain in the arse sometimes, but I love her. But I care about you, too. I know you're a decent bloke... not like Dean bloody Thomas... can you believe that he...?"

"Ron... focus!"

"Right... anyhow... I can't think of anyone I'd rather see her with. But I'll still feed you your stones if you hurt her. Bill has other plans for you if you mess up..."

"Bill? You've _discussed this_?"

"Sure. It's been obvious to pretty much everyone the way things have been heading... Percy thought that public humiliation might be preferable, but Charlie and Bill and I agree that physical pain is the best deterrent... now I did point out that you seem to have a higher than average pain threshold, but that just seemed to please them..."

"Ron!"

Bleary blue eyes looked up at him. "What?"

"Are you okay with my dating your sister? Or is that going to be a problem between you and I?"

"No problem with me, mate. Might have a problem with the others. Bill seems reasonably okay with it... Charlie might be another story. He taught her how to knee a bloke when she was nine. You don't mess with a guy that'll teach a girl to do something like that."

"I'll deal with them... but I don't want you and I..."

"I'm touched, Harry, really. To tell you the truth, I'm more ticked off at your having woken me at the crack of bloody dawn for this little conversation."

"Goodnight, Ron," Harry stood, moving the desk chair back to the desk and heading for the door.

"G'night, Harry," Ron yawned, and laying back down, was asleep before Harry closed the door after him.

* * *

_I've come to the conclusion that I must stop using subtlety. Apparently, I suck at it. The relationship between Remus and Petunia was in the past, and will stay there. This was merely a ploy on my part, used in an effort to show a side of Petunia that I don't think many consider... that she had a life before Vernon Dursley._

_I'll stop now. _

_CQ_

_**Larna Mandrea:** You know, I hadn't considered putting the opening of that box in this fic... just the fact of it. Perhaps I ought to consider what happens after..._

_**Bklynbecca:** Do we know either way? Certainly they knew her. Remus refers to her as a friend, and would Lily have allowed Sirius to become her child's godfather if she didn't know him, and like him? I think we can safely assume that Lily knew and liked both Remus and Sirius. As for Remus... he is a werewolf. Canon refers to him as such, and it doesn't go away just because it's between full moons. He suffers from Lycanthropy... he's a werewolf, and I really do hope that you don't think I'm making him out to be evil because of his affliction. Remus is one of my favorite characters, has appeared in practically ALL of my fics as an older, caring, uncle-figure to Harry. I mention it in the same way that I mention that the Weasleys are red-headed, that Charlie and Bill are protective of Ginny, that Ron is loyal but a bit dense, and that Hermione is a muggle-born bookworm. It's what they are, and it's certainly not meant to be offensive._

_**RyougaZell:** I think Harry was still too stunned to get his thoughts together enough to make any observation on Lucius Malfoy. As to the "Remember my last" the book actually says it was the deep voice of a man... but there is no interpretation given to the MEANING behind it, or whether it was someone reminding Petunia of their own words or actions, or those of someone else in the past. My interpretation of it for this story is loose, to say the least. I actually believe that there is something rather more sinister to it, and that we will learn MUCH more about that in future canon... and remember, in the book, Harry didn't recognize the voice. That tells me that it wasn't someone he knew, which (IMHO) rules out Dumbledore. _

_**Shotgunn:** One of these days, I promise, I'll write the epic you want. This one, I am afraid, will not be it. But perhaps a sequel..._

_**Thunder's Shadow:** Sometimes, to learn things, we must first look at them in the context of our own world. Perhaps Harry has some things to learn._

_**Merlindamage:** Maybe her value isn't in her ability to do magic... maybe it's more in what Harry needs to learn from her._

_**Akemi:** The Remus/Petunia interaction was merely a vehicle to demonstrate that Petunia wasn't always as she is, and that the choices we make sometimes change who we are... not to mention the fact that Harry needs to learn to stop looking at others as in one of two camps... people are many things... and no situation is ever only black or white._

_**DavidMPotter:** Nope – Harry and Ginny in every chapter wouldn't be any fun at all. I like making you all wait for it..._

_**PCB: **In this story, Petunia wasn't muggleborn... David and Rebecca Evans were Squibs, both of wizarding families. As for the Remus/Petunia thing... you never know. That's the point. Who knew what Petunia was like before the advent of Vernon Dursley? _

_**GeeUnit:** Aww, such lovely compliments!_

_**To all the others, thank you:** Bobboky, MysticRuby, Kordolin, Nimbirosa, Agloechen, ImaQuidditchFan, Eris Queen of the Shadows, SabineStrohemMoss, IndiaInk, Starnat, Nightwing509, CannonFodder, Cara, DrowningGoldfish, Lourdes, Pdlegirl, Weselan, LadyofMasbolle, Lilia3, IcePhoenixTears, RedBessRackham, Medieval Woman_


	10. Chapter Ten: Birthday Girl

Chapter Ten: Birthday Girl

Harry waited impatiently for Ginny to awake that morning. He had no intention whatsoever of giving her his gift in front of everyone, so he waited in the den, the door open, and his chair facing the door.

Every few minutes, he would stand from the chair, pace over to the desk, eye the package sitting there and pace back to his chair.

Ginny came down the stairs, sleep in her eyes and wrapped in a fuzzy robe at quarter to nine. Harry was literally on his last nerve.

"Gin?"

"G'morning, Harry," she yawned, switching direction and making for the den, and Harry, rather than for the door that led to the kitchens.

_Not quite as I'd imagined this_, he thought.

"I..."

"What?" she looked up at him, blinking her chocolate brown eyes owlishly. "What's wrong?"

He smiled. "Did you just wake up?"

"Hmmm... Mum does this every year... she lays out my oldest, fuzziest robe for me... and slams the door as she leaves. Then she goes and makes my breakfast. Two poached eggs and a slice of toast."

"You like poached eggs?" Harry looked curiously at her. All he'd ever seen her eat for breakfast, in the five years he'd sat across a breakfast table from her, was toast and fruit.

"Hate them. Don't know what keeps the woman going on that, actually."

Harry grinned happily.

"So... why are you keeping me from my breakfast, Potter?"

"Saving you from the horror of poached eggs?"

"Nope. Not good enough," she laughed. "It's my birthday, you know."

"I know," he said softly. "That's actually why I was waiting."

"You were waiting? For me?"

"Umm... yes, rather... kind of."

"For how long?"

"Umm.."

"Harry, how long have you been up?" she asked suspiciously.

"I... well, I've been _up_ since about four, but.."

"Harry!"

"Well, I wasn't expecting you to be up that early... so I went for a walk down by the lake, and then I had a chat with Ron..."

"_Ron is up_?" Ginny looked shocked.

"Well... no. I kind of... well, I kind of woke him up to talk. He wasn't too happy about that... but he did. Then I let him go back to sleep."

Ginny giggled, shaking her head.

"I just wanted to... well, to say Happy Birthday, and..."

"Thank you, Harry."

"Gin?" He swallowed uncomfortably. "I..."

"What is it, Harry?"

_Might as well go for it... she already knows you've been up for five hours waiting for her._

"I... I'd like to kiss you again."

Ginny's eyes grew dark. "I'd like that."

Slowly, he pulled her toward him, his hands on her elbows, not hemming her in at all, and lowered his lips to hers.

_Fireworks_. He could swear he saw the brilliant green and gold of fireworks. Ginny sighed as he pulled away.

"I want to do that again," he murmured into her ear.

"I have absolutely no objection to that," she breathed.

"Are you sure?"

"Harry...?"

"Because I'd like to do that a lot. I'd like to... have the right to do that... and be the only one who did."

"Harry...?" she pulled back from him, her eyes widening.

"Ginny... I... the other day... I didn't know what to say to you. I didn't know what to do... but I knew... well, things had changed. _We_ had changed. I had changed. I need you, please..."

"Harry, what did you think I meant when I told you I loved you?"

"I didn't..." he took a deep breath. "I didn't want to think too hard on that, in case you didn't mean it the way I wanted you to mean it."

"I did."

"I know that, now. Ginny, will you..."

"Yes. Absolutely."

Harry sighed with relief. She made this so easy, despite it being one of the hardest things he'd ever done. Hard enough that he just had to kiss her again.

Some minutes later, he pulled away with a smile, and caught sight of the brightly wrapped package on the desk.

"I have something for you," he said.

"Really?"

"A present."

"A present?" her eyes lit with childish excitement. "I'm not supposed to have my presents until lunch."

"Well, this one is from me... the rules are different."

She giggled as he handed her the package. "Careful, it's kind of heavy."

"Oooh..." she reached for it, and immediately ripped the wrappings off. Harry grinned. Hermione would be horrified.

Revealing the box inside, Ginny looked up curiously at him, and opened it. The onyx lid lifted to reveal the golden quills and ink bottles inside. She gasped.

"Harry?"

"It's not new, Gin... I hope you don't mind, but it was my mother's and... well, I wanted you to have it."

Ginny stilled, and raised her eyes to his. He was startled to see them full of tears.

_Oh no... not again._

"Ginny, please don't cry..."

"I can't help it, Harry... thank you... thank you so very much!" she set the package on the table and stood, throwing her arms around him and kissing him thoroughly. Suddenly, a crying witch didn't seem to be such a bad thing.

When she finally pulled away, he grinned down at her. "I take it you like it?"

"I love it. Thank you. I've never had such a lovely writing set... who am I kidding? I've never had _any_ writing set, but it's gorgeous... and the fact that it was your mum's... Harry, are you sure you want me to have it?"

"Positive," he said. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather have it. Now, as much as I'd like you to thank me again, I have a feeling that if you're not in the kitchen in the next two minutes, your mum is going to come looking for you."

* * *

The Weasley family congregated just before lunch that day to celebrate the birthday of their youngest member. Ginny, whose birthdays in past had been celebrated at the Burrow, felt a momentary pang of homesickness, but it faded quickly when she glimpsed Harry standing, leaning against the back of the sofa in the large lounge off of the formal dining room.

Glancing around, she smiled. All of her favorite people were here. What was there to be homesick over?

Harry was currently talking to Ron and Charlie about something that seemed to require lots of gesticulating. Charlie must be talking about dragons. Her Mum and Dad were talking with Bill and Dumbledore in the doorway to the dining room, and Hermione had Percy and Lupin cornered, probably talking their ears off about the rather extensive library the Potter family had built over the years and which Hermione had been doing her level best to read through in the three weeks she had here.

Even Petunia Dursley was here, sitting alone across the room, watching everyone with her small grey eyes.

The twins stood in the opposite corner, talking quietly together and occasionally glancing her way.

_Trouble, that._ Perhaps it was time to circumvent it.

Standing, she placed her butterbeer on the table beside her chair and, with a determined look on her face, made her way to Harry's side. He looked up as she approached, the happy light in his eyes turning to alarm when he saw her expression.

"Hello, Harry," she smiled.

Charlie and Ron exchanged glances, then turned back to their sister. They knew that look. It was the look that said that Ginny wanted something, and was bound and determined to get it, no matter the cost.

"G-Ginny..." Harry swallowed, unsure of what that light in her eyes meant, but absolutely certain it didn't bode well for him.

Sliding up beside him, she grinned wickedly. She knew her movements had drawn attention from all corners of the room, but her eyes never left Harry's. Eyes which were showing his indecision, in a face which was quickly turning crimson. She nearly laughed with glee over that, but managed to hold back.

Slipping one arm around his waist, and the other up and around his neck, she made sure she had his full attention.

Then, she winked.

Harry nearly choked. He probably would have if he hadn't been distracted. Ginny Weasley's lips on his were an unavoidable distraction. For everyone, it would seem.

But at that point, Harry didn't really care. Their relationship was still too new for him to resist full involvement when something like this was laid before him. He kissed her back, forgetting they were in a room full of people.

Including her six brothers.

The clearing of a throat nearby made them surface, Ginny pulling back with a very self-satisfied look on her face. Harry was still rather stunned, but managed to straighten his glasses on his face before looking up.

"Um, Gin?" Charlie spoke, his eyes on Harry. "Take some pity on the poor bloke, would you?"

"Hmmm?"

"Harry. Not exactly sporting, broadsiding the poor git like that in front of everyone."

"Oh, Harry doesn't mind. Do you?" She turned dancing brown eyes to him. The challenge in them was clear. She was an evil witch, and she was obviously enjoying this.

But Harry wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. Pulling her to his side, he wrapped an arm around her, and faced down her family.

Well, those who weren't looking on with glee.

Which was really only Charlie.

_The one who taught her to knee a bloke_... Harry thought uncomfortably.

"Potter?" Charlie's eyes narrowed. "You have something to say?"

"You need me to spell it out, Charlie?"

Charlie's eyes narrowed further. Harry wondered how he'd never noticed before that Charlie was, by far, the most muscular of the Weasley men. For Merlin's sake, was he _insane_? This guy wrestled _dragons_ for a living!

At that moment, Ginny curled into his side, and placed her left hand up on his chest, over his heart... and Harry knew that _he_ would willingly wrestle dragons for her.

He looked at Charlie, his eyes bright. Charlie's eyebrows rose, a smirk showing faintly.

"No, Potter... I think I get it."

"Good," Harry nodded, almost relieved.

Charlie stepped a little closer, his voice lowering, his blue eyes never leaving Harry's. He was a good three inches shorter than Harry, but he wasn't daunted at all.

"Just remember, Potter... if you ever hurt her, you won't see it coming. And I work with dragons, so all they'll have to bury will be the pieces."

Harry swallowed, nodded and tightened his hold on Ginny.

"Charlie..." she began.

"It's okay, Gin," Harry said softly. "Charlie has the right to say it."

"Saying and doing are two different..." her red-haired temper was beginning to show.

"Gin," Harry said, looking down at her, his green eyes sending a message only for her. "It's okay."

When Ginny didn't continue, but actually smiled up at Harry, the brothers exchanged surprised looks. Charlie had braced himself for an itching hex, at the very least.

"Harry, you have done something that I never thought possible," Ron crowed.

"What's that?" Harry looked up at his best friend, his arm still holding Ginny to his side. He had no intention of letting go now.

"You've tamed our Ginny!"

Ginny's eyes sparked, the twins actually groaned at Ron's stupidity, and Charlie began to laugh, inching carefully away from Ron, and out of range.

"I have no intention of doing any such thing, Ron," Harry looked down at her, her soft brown eyes calmed. "She's perfect the way she is."

There was an audible sigh of relief from Ron, who had just realized what he had said and had been fully aware of what the repercussions would probably be.

"Come, everyone, lunch is ready!" Molly's voice carried across the room.

Turning Ginny toward the dining room, Harry glanced over his shoulder at Ron.

"You owe me, mate," he whispered. Ron merely grinned.

Lunch was eaten, the cake consumed, and they moved back into the lounge to watch Ginny open her gifts. Standing back watching, Harry realized that she was the life of this family. Everyone adored her, doted on her, protected her. How on earth had she managed to become the independent, giving person she had?

_Love_, he thought. _The great equalizer._

Glancing at his aunt, he found her watching Ginny. She'd been very quiet, even more so than usual. Harry wondered at that.

"Oh... this is wonderful! Thank you, Hermione!"

Harry turned back to see his brand new girlfriend holding up something red... and lacy.

_Dear Merlin_!

Glancing around, Harry noticed that the expressions on the faces of the Weasley men ranged from speechless to blazingly angry. Unfortunately, that last was directed at Harry. He gulped, and swore he'd kill Hermione later.

"Harry, look!" Ginny held up the lacy bit of nothing.

Actually, if the expression on Charlie's face was anything to go by, he probably wouldn't _have_ a "later".

"Ginny! Stop embarrassing Harry," Molly scolded. "It's lovely, dear, but not something that you should be waving about in public."

And with that, Harry promptly got a mental image of Ginny waving it about in private, and groaned.

"Watch it there, Spanky," Bill muttered from beside him.

Harry took a deep breath, cursing Ginny six ways to Sunday. "Look, Bill, I know she's your sister, but..."

"I'm fully aware of how you feel, mate. She's a right little vixen. Mum and Dad have had their hands full keeping her in line this long, and I do not envy you the slightest. But I'm warning you that it will take very little to make Charlie pop until he gets used to the idea, and Ginny and lingerie being together in the same thought in your seventeen year old brain is guaranteed to get you into deep, deep trouble."

"You think I don't know that?" Harry whispered. "Merlin, Bill... she's... she..."

Bill laughed, "A word of advice, Harry. I've known her for sixteen years... this is nothing new. If Ginny knows she's getting to you, whatever she's doing, she's unlikely to stop anytime soon. She enjoys pushing people to the edge and watching them hang there."

Harry considered the possibilities of that, and was returned to reality as Bill cleared his throat.

"Harry? You need to focus, mate. Charlie can smell fear... and guilt."

Harry nodded, colouring yet again.

"Why are you...?"

"Warning you?" Bill grinned. "Harry, I was eleven years old when Ginny was born. After witnessing the birth of five brothers, all of whom drove me nuts most of the time, a girl was very, very welcome. I was due to leave for Hogwarts three weeks later, and in that time, my little sister stole my heart. There is nothing I wouldn't do to see her happy. She's wanted you, misguided though she may be, since she first laid eyes on you at ten. If you make her happy, I'll do everything in my power to make sure it works."

"Thanks," Harry said quietly.

"Now, the flip side of that is that if you hurt her, I'll make sure you feel great pain for extended periods of time before I mercifully finish you off."

Harry nodded.

"I'm a curse breaker, Harry. I know some really, really nasty stuff."

"I'm not going to hurt her, Bill. Not if I can help it. Not ever."

"Then you have nothing to worry about, do you, Potter?" Charlie's voice came from his other side. When Harry turned to look, it looked like he'd been standing there for a while.

"Ginny," Hermione's voice distracted him from Ginny's irate older brother. "Where's your gift from Harry?"

Ginny's dancing eyes met his, mischief glinting there. Harry's throat went dry.

_She wouldn't..._

"Oh, Harry gave me my present when I woke up this morning," she commented, her eyes never leaving Harry's, and an evil little grin playing about her mouth.

_She would._

Standing helplessly between her two eldest, and most protective, brothers, Harry groaned aloud. Their relationship would certainly never be dull. Assuming he survived it.

* * *

After calming down Bill and Charlie, amazingly after being on the receiving end of only one death threat, Harry had watched as Ginny bundled up her gifts and left the room. He had a desperate need to be alone with her and, ill-advised as it may be in this house full of her protective siblings, he wanted to kiss her senseless.

He followed her out into the hallway just in time to see her disappear at the top of the stairs.

"Stupid... very stupid, Potter..." he muttered as he made his way to the bottom of the staircase.

But movement caught his eye. There was someone in the den.

Drawing out his wand, he moved to the doorway, sighing as he saw his aunt standing looking at his parent's portrait.

"Aunt Petunia?"

She glanced up at him, her eyes fearful until she realized who it was.

"Harry."

"What's wrong? What is it?"

"Nothing."

"You've been very quiet... even more so than normal."

"I'm... I'm a bit homesick, I suppose. I miss Dudley," she stopped, glancing at him then away. "I don't suppose you have any idea of what I mean. You never had any reason to miss your family."

"You think?" Harry smiled bitterly. "I missed them all the time."

Petunia looked up at him again, blinking curiously.

"This is my family, Aunt Petunia. The Weasleys, Hermione, Remus... all of them. Every minute I spent away from them, at your home, I missed them. Why do you think I left so quickly that morning?"

"To get away," she said simply.

"No. It wouldn't have been like that if I had had nowhere to get _to_. Look, I may not share your feelings for them, but I can understand you miss them. You now know how I felt every summer, knowing that I didn't belong... knowing that there was a place I _did_ belong, but with no way to get there... and you and Uncle Vernon..."

Petunia didn't respond. Harry sighed.

"Well, you should be getting back to the party, Harry," she said softly. "Don't let me keep you from them... from her."

Harry nodded, his eyes not leaving hers. "Yes. Yes, you're right."

He looked longingly up the stairs as he passed, knowing on some level that Ginny was waiting for him to come to her. But there was something he needed to do first.

"Professor, can I speak to you for a moment?" Harry asked after approaching Dumbledore and Remus back in the lounge.

"Of course, Harry..."

"Could we... take a walk?"

Dumbledore's eyes sharpened on him, but, perhaps sensing Harry's odd mood, he simply nodded.

"Yes... of course."

Leading the old man through the garden doors and across the stone patio, Harry headed across the lawns towards the lake.

"Why did my cousin and uncle not come with her?"

"I don't know, Harry. I explained the situation to her, and left her to make her decision. When I returned an hour later, she met me by the front door, her bag already packed. I never saw your uncle, or young Dudley."

Harry walked for a few minutes, silent.

"She misses them," he said eventually.

"Just as you missed your true family every year, Harry. Do not believe that I do not understand that."

"If you understood, you would know that I wouldn't put my worst enemy through..." Harry paused. "Well, not my aunt, in any case."

"I thought you wanted her to understand what it meant to be alone?"

"I did, I do. But I think that..." Harry paused. "I think that she already does understand. Maybe I never saw that because she didn't want it seen... or maybe it was there all the time..."

Dumbledore was silent, but after a moment, stopped and turned to look at Harry.

"What are you asking of me, Harry?"

"Can you bring them here? To her?"

"I don't know."

"She needs to see Dudley, at least."

"He is her son, Harry. They are her family. She loves them."

"I know... maybe I just don't understand why."

"Why wouldn't she?"

Harry looked hard at Dumbledore for a moment before speaking. "You really have no concept of what life is like in that house, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"My aunt... look, I'm not defending her. She's definitely part of her own problems, but..."

"But?"

"I wouldn't put a dog to live in that house, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore looked concerned. "Harry?"

"Look... it's not a nice place to be. Not for me, but I wasn't the only one. My uncle..."

"Harry?" Dumbledore looked alarmed now.

"She'll never leave him, but I've had to set him straight on his treatment of her. And Dudley..."

"Dudley?"

"Follows his father's lead. Vernon Dursley is a cruel man, and when I'm not there to take it out on..."

"He is... abusive?"

"Verbally... emotionally... yes. I've never seen any evidence of him hurting her physically, but you can't have any idea..."

"Abusive?" Dumbledore said weakly, looking away.

"Look, she misses Dudley, and I think it's wrong to keep them separated. If you could get them here..."

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "I shall see what I can arrange."

"Thank you."

"And Harry, it takes great courage..."

"Spare me, Professor," Harry said sharply. "She's my mother's sister. I like to think that I'm only doing what my parents would expect me to do."

"Or what you would expect for yourself," Dumbledore said sadly.

Harry, ignoring this last, returned to the house.

* * *

_Okay, I didn't mean I was going to leave the Remus/Petunia theme out... I couldn't if I tried... but it DOES mean I'm done with trying to be clever about it. You're all far too suspicious of me. Perhaps with good reason, as a few of you have been with me since The Power of Truth... I suppose I've created the monster that is now turning and biting me on my behind._

_Anyhow, on with the show..._

_CQ_

_**Medieval Woman:** Oh, the birthday party was FUN to write..._

_**Kazziedal:** Define "big problem"? LOL..._

_**Merlindamage:** Who says I **don't**? LOL – actually, I don't... but I do think that the H/Hr shippers out there are destined to be terribly, terribly disappointed! But, as they say, "whatever floats your boat"... (wink)!_

_**ThundersShadow:** Would I do that? Never..._

_**HarryPotterFan777777: **Thanks! No one was more surprised than I when I got the news that Truth had been nominated for the Accio Fanfic awards... it's a real honor, let me tell you – out of all of the superb fan fiction out there, I'm bloody ecstatic that I've even managed to get on the list! I was originally planning on 13 chapters for this fic... it's done, and I'm thinking that we'll go by way of the sequel to continue the story. This story is, essentially, about Harry learning that all is not always as it seems – and his learning more about the Evans family, and specifically, about what makes Petunia tick... this is all this story was meant for, but I'm realizing that there is more to explore._

_**Starnat:** Don't worry about Remus – Petunia's world is very small, and this is time out of time for her... whatever happened in the past (or didn't happen) will have to stay there... I don't see Remus as the type to poach!_

_**Jouve25:** Really? Wow – I'm happy you think so. When I'm writing, I generally get to the point where I think what I've written is absolute crap – then nice people like you say nice things, and suddenly, it's okay that it's on the 'net! LOL – thanks, reviews like this make me happy!_

_**Beornthryth:** You know, I don't know about the Potter/redheadedwomen thing... but it's been alluded to enough in canon that I think JKR has a surprise in store for us..._

_**RyougaZell:** Yes, JKR has stated that Ginny is the first female born to the Weasley's in "several" generations... it certainly has a bearing on her family's over-protectiveness, I'm sure... but I also think it has bearing on canon – JKR doesn't say ANYTHING for no reason!_

_**Brittschrick:** Glad to hear it!_

_**Danny:** Trust me, I like you smiling, too – happy reviewers are so much nicer than cranky ones! Hope this helps make today a little easier..._

_**Libyanauthor:** Wow! Thank you – I don't even know where to begin to respond to your review! It's appreciated, thanks! I have to say that the one thing that stood out was the "internet lingo" comment... I had to laugh, because several of my "online" friends are FULLY aware of how I feel about "netspeak" - it's horrid! I'll be sure to check out your efforts as soon as I get some time to actually read some fanfics... my muse has been particularly productive lately._

_**Omeganian:** Well, it is only rated PG13..._

_**Nimbirosa:** AAAARRRRRGGGHHH! The dialog monster got me... you've managed to point directly at one of my major failings – I recognize it, and am working towards a cure! _

_**Weselan:** Aww! Thank you! I like being someone's treat!_

_**Lady of Masbolle:** Nope... no subliminal psychological manipulation being used here... at least not by me!_

_**Finbar:** Good!Draco? Umm... nope... not me. I think he's a git. Always has been, always will be. I believe that what people BELIEVE about Draco may not be entirely accurate – from either side... but at the core of it, I think that the Malferret is perfectly nasty little piece of work, and he deserves a proper hiding at least once every fic he appears in!_

_**And to the rest, my thanks:** Nightwing509, ImaQuidditchFan, Kordolin, MysticRuby, Pdlegirl, Bobboky, IndiaInk, Akemi, Gaull, IcePhoenixTears_


	11. Chapter Eleven: Revelations in Diagon Al...

_A/N – Okay, EXTRA long chappie here... and I'm dedicating it._

_My very wonderful, very patient, and very long-suffering beta, friend, and confidant is celebrating his birthday today. Happy birthday, James! You're the greatest!_

_CQ_

_

* * *

_

Chapter Eleven: Revelations in Diagon Alley

Three days later, their Hogwarts letters arrived. Molly was positively gleeful.

"Merlin, Harry, you'd think she won the bloody lottery!" Ginny said after dealing with her mother's joyful hugs and kisses for the third time in the last hour.

"In a way, she has," Harry smiled, taking her hand as they walked around the lake.

"I wish she had, maybe then her attention would be focused elsewhere."

"Ginny, you got eleven OWLs."

"So?"

"That's more than any of your brothers managed... even Percy. And with Ron..."

"What was Dumbledore thinking, making Ron Head Boy?"

"I think he made a brilliant choice," Harry said gently.

"I know," Ginny sighed, moving closer so he could wrap an arm around her shoulders. "But Fred and George will never get over the shame of it... three Head Boys in the family... and I get to be the Head Boys' little sister... can you imagine the horror?"

Harry grinned. "Hermione will keep him in line."

"Yes... at least Dumbledore did that right. Hermione will make a fine Head Girl... and she might be able to keep my brother from turning into a dictator."

"Well, as his best friend, I can't imagine it will be that bad, you know..."

Ginny began to laugh.

"Harry! Ginny!" Hermione's voice called from the patio, "Lunch!"

"What about them?" Ginny asked.

"Who?"

"Ron and Hermione?"

"They'll figure it out."

"I'm not so sure, Harry. Ron can be awfully thick, and Hermione..."

"Ginny, if _I_ figured it out, I'm pretty sure that Ron is capable."

She smiled happily up at him. "True."

"Then again," he speculated as they reached the edge of the stone marking the border between the gardens and the patio. "Hermione isn't you..."

"What?"

"Motivation to figure it out, of course," he said softly, the hand that rested on her shoulder coming up to brush a fiery gold lock of hair out of her eyes. "His couldn't be nearly so strong."

"For him, I'm sure it is, Harry."

Inside, Molly, surprisingly with Aunt Petunia's help, had served lunch.

"Harry," Molly fussed. "You really shouldn't be wandering about..."

"Mrs Weasley, Bill has assured us that the wards on the estate grounds are fine."

"But..."

"I can't spend the month inside, Mrs Weasley," Harry looked directly into her eyes, trying to make her see.

She looked at him, her eyes concerned, but nodded, turning back to her own lunch. "I don't like it..."

"I know," Harry laughed. "Neither does Dumbledore... the lot of you would have me wrapped in cotton wool..."

"Hardly," Molly's eyes snapped, her temper rising. "It's not good for a child to..."

"But I'm not a child any longer, Mrs Weasley," Harry said softly. "I'm of age... and I've seen an awful lot more than most wizards my age. Or even yours."

Molly looked away, uncomfortable, knowing Harry was right, but unwilling to admit it. To anyone.

Mumbling something about children messing in things they didn't understand, she stood and moved back to the kitchen. Ginny squeezed Harry's hand under the table.

He sighed. Why did it have to be so hard? Why did Molly Weasley have to be so stubbornly determined that he was incapable of taking care of himself?

Why couldn't she simply believe in him? He desperately needed someone to...

"Harry?" Ginny's voice made him turn and look at her. There was his someone.

"Gin, thanks."

"For what?"

"Existing," he whispered, leaning down and kissing her lightly.

They were clearing the table when Bill popped in.

"All clear, Mum," he said.

"Good, good..." Molly cast an eagle eye about the dining room, making sure that everything was put away and in perfect order.

"All clear for what?" Ron asked.

"Our trip to Diagon Alley," Mollly smiled. "We have to get your school things, now that your letters have come."

"But..."

"And you, my boy, are going with Bill and your father."

"Me?" Ron looked at his mother, alarmed. "Why me?"

"Because, a head boy needs to _look_ like a head boy, that's why!" Molly said, setting the charms to wash the dishes. "You're getting some new clothes."

Ron was obviously torn between great joy at the thought of getting clothes that hadn't belonged to one of his brothers first, and being denied the company of the others on a trip to Diagon Alley.

"I'll get your books and things with the others, Ron," his mother urged. "Off you go, then..."

Ron, glancing over his shoulder, stepped over to the floo with Bill.

"Relax, slick," Bill grinned. "It won't be so bad. Dad's already been to Gringotts... oh, here Mum..."

Bill rooted in his pocket and handed a money bag to Molly. Harry couldn't help but notice how little seemed to be in it.

Aunt Petunia watched it all, silently, before turning and heading toward the door.

"Get your bag," Harry instructed in a low voice as she approached.

"Excuse me?"

"Get your bag. You'll need it."

Her grey eyes met his, questioning.

"I'd like you to see Diagon Alley," Harry said, feeling Ginny tense beside him.

After a moment's pause, Petunia nodded, and left the room.

"Harry...!"

"I want her to see it, Gin. I want her to know that these people aren't that different from her."

Ginny was silent, but he could tell that she was watching him closely. Harry hoped he hadn't upset her, but Aunt Petunia needed this. He needed her to do this.

Twenty minutes later, they lined up at the floo to transport to the twins' shop in Diagon Alley. It was one of two floos in the Alley that had access to Potter Manor. The other, unbeknownst to anyone but Harry, Bill and Dumbledore, was in Olivander's.

Stepping up to the floo, Ginny turned and kissed Harry quickly. "I'll go through, you bring your aunt."

Harry, who hadn't considered how his aunt would get through, glanced over at the older woman to find her eyes wide and alarmed as people disappeared in bursts of green flame. Turning back to Ginny, he nodded.

She smiled at him and, stepping into the wide hearth, quickly disappeared.

"Come, Aunt Petunia..." Harry held out his hand to her. It was odd... he'd never held her hand before. At the first touch of her cool fingers, he felt... strange.

Grasping her hand, he stepped forward and took a handful of floo powder. Knowing the spinning sensation they were about to feel, he pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her middle.

"Relax, it'll be over in a minute," he said softly, then threw the powder at their feet and said firmly, "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!"

Spinning through the network, Harry felt his aunt tense. He knew how she felt. He hated the feeling and had discovered it was better if you closed your eyes. However, if you closed your eyes, you tended to overshoot your destination.

"Close your eyes," he said. "We're almost there."

He could tell that she'd done as he said, because she relaxed a bit, her back not quite so straight against his chest. He was surprised for a moment when he realized that her head came only to just above his chin. He'd always thought of her as a tall woman. Her extreme thinness must add to that perception, he thought.

But now, he looked down on her. _When did that happen?_

And then, they arrived. Harry, for once, didn't stumble as he stepped out of the floo into the back room at the twin's shop, to be greeted by Hermione, Ginny and the twins.

"Oh, my," Petunia gasped as Harry stepped away from her. Ginny offered her the brush that Molly insisted the twins keep on the mantle.

Petunia looked oddly at her.

"To brush off the soot..." Ginny explained. "The twins don't keep their floo very clean."

"Hey!" Fred exclaimed. "We have a floo cleaning service in twice a year!"

Petunia looked down at her neat blouse and skirt, and then back at Ginny and Hermione, who wore robes over their street clothes.

"I'm going to stand out like a sore thumb, aren't I?"

Ginny looked confused, but Hermione stepped forward, taking the brush from Ginny's hand and gently brushing at the bits of soot clinging to Petunia's clothes. They magically disappeared.

"No, you'll be fine," she said. "There are plenty of non-magical people in Diagon Alley."

Petunia looked alarmed.

"Why?"

Hermione looked up at her from where she was finishing brushing off the hem of her skirt, her eyes smiling. "People like my parents... who have ties to this world, but no magic themselves. Not everyone dresses like Molly and Arthur... or Dumbledore."

"Mum and Dad are quite traditional in their dress," Ginny confirmed. "Not all wizards and witches wear robes all the time. Look at Bill."

"Or Harry," Hermione said. "He only wears them if we're going out somewhere."

Petunia glanced at her nephew, who was watching the exchange with an odd look in his eye.

At that moment, Molly Weasley arrived, fussing and clucking over her brood. "How on earth we are ever going to get this all done, I'll never know..."

"Mrs Weasley, why don't you just worry about Ron's things, and Hermione and I, we'll help Ginny as we get our own. We know what she'll need," Harry said.

"Oh, but you've got so much you need to do for yourselves, love..." Molly said, concerned. "It's your seventh year, and..."

"And nothing," Harry said. "Between us, we'll be fine. And my aunt will help, won't you, Aunt Petunia?"

Aunt Petunia looked surprised, but quickly recovered herself. "Of course."

"Well," Molly glanced between them.

"Let them go, Mum," Fred said, leaning against a stack of boxes. "You know you'll move faster without them."

"Well, all right, then," Molly reached for her purse. "Here, Harry..."

"We'll settle up later, Mrs Weasley... go on."

"Well..." Molly glanced uncomfortably at Petunia, then back to Harry. "No more than three galleons on anything more than what's on the list, please, Harry."

"Don't worry, Mrs Weasley. I'll take care of it."

As soon as Molly was gone and they had exited the twin's shop, Hermione turned to Harry.

"Where first?"

"Gringotts," Harry said quickly. "I need to visit my vault."

"Your vault?" Petunia looked surprised. Actually, she looked quite uncomfortable, fingering the golden chain that she'd worn for as long as Harry could remember.

"My vault," Harry confirmed, his eyes narrowing on her. Petunia wisely remained silent.

Surprisingly, the goblins at Gringotts didn't seem to affect Petunia at all, much to Harry's relief. What did seem to affect her was the way Harry was treated by them.

"Mr Potter! How rewarding to see you again!" greeted the goblin they approached, sitting behind his tall desk, his quills neatly lined up in front of him.

"Thank you. I need to withdraw some gold..."

"Of course, of course... that time of year again, yes? Let me just get a driver... Gringshack! Over here! Mr Potter is waiting!"

Harry didn't notice Petunia's silent study of him, but Hermione and Ginny did. Exchanging glances, they followed the goblin cart-driver and climbed into the car behind Harry and his aunt.

A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of the Potter family vault. Harry climbed out and unlocked the vault, opening the door with the assistance of the goblin. Hermione and Ginny politely kept their eyes averted, as was customary, but Ginny couldn't help noticing that Petunia Dursley didn't do the same.

"Mrs Dursley?" Ginny said softly, drawing the older woman's attention.

Petunia turned slightly shocked eyes to the red-haired witch beside her.

"It's considered... customary... to keep your eyes down."

Petunia swallowed, then complied, obviously dealing with her surprise at the contents of Harry's vault. Ginny noticed her fingering the plain gold chain around her neck again.

"I'm sorry," Ginny continued. "I just didn't want you to feel..."

"Thank you," Petunia said, equally softly. "I... surprising as it may be, I do know... I was just... surprised."

Ginny smiled politely, then looked away, the conversation over.

As the goblin and Harry returned, Harry tucking a sizeable money bag into the pocket of his robe, the goblin spoke.

"Will that be all, then, Mr Potter?"

"Yes, I..."

"No," Petunia said, looking up at the goblin who stood beside the cart. "I mean..."

Quickly, she unclasped the golden chain from about her neck and, to the amazement of all but, apparently, Gringshack, a key appeared dangling from it.

"Can we... can we go here?" she asked, holding the key out to the driver.

He took it, studied it for a moment, and raised eternally suspicious eyes to the woman.

"Vault three hundred and three," he nodded. "One moment."

There was shocked silence in the cart as the goblin drove further down into the catacombs. Harry was shocked mute. Aunt Petunia had a Gringotts vault?

When they arrived, Gringshack hopped out and held his hand to assist Petunia, who hesitated before taking it. Harry thought her spine stiffened for a moment, but she took the hand and stepped from the cart.

Harry exchanged glances with Hermione and Ginny, who looked questioningly at him,. He shrugged. He'd had no idea.

"Harry?" Aunt Petunia was looking at him. "Come."

Surprised, he followed.

The vault that they unlocked, with Harry showing Petunia what she had to do, was smaller than his own. Much smaller. And dark. Harry pulled out his wand and stepped forward.

"_Lumos_," he said. Petunia gasped.

In one corner was a small pile of gold. Not much, but Harry thought there was probably two or three hundred galleons.

Beside the small pile were several paintings stacked against the wall, and three boxes.

Petunia turned to him. "This was my father's vault."

"I didn't know..."

"He lived as a muggle, but the Evans family had deep roots in the magical community. After they died... well, Lily packed up a few things and sent them here."

She leaned down and scooped up a few handfuls of the gold, placing them in her purse, then turned back to Harry.

"All right then?" He asked softly.

"Yes... yes, I think so."

Harry nodded and followed her out, back to the cart, where Ginny and Hermione were sitting, their eyes lowered. They rode back to the surface in silence.

Harry quickly converted some of his gold into muggle money at the desk and, smiling at the goblin there, with a joking comment, he returned to where the women were standing, taking Ginny's hand in his as he did so.

"Ready?" he asked.

"As ever," Ginny agreed.

They left Gringotts and Petunia looked around the busy street. "It's been years since I've been here."

"You've been here...?" Harry asked, surprised. Then, he realized, she'd gone to Hogwarts, of course she'd been to Diagon Alley.

"My parents were Squibs, Harry," she said. "But still part of this world."

Harry nodded, pulling Ginny closer and kissing the top of her head. Her touch seemed to ground him.

"Where first?" Hermione asked. "Books, or...?"

"Books are heavy," Ginny sighed. "Let's do that last."

"I could always shrink them..." Harry pointed out.

"_Last_, Harry."

Harry knew that look. Last it would be.

"I need to have my wand serviced," Harry said. "And I need to get some new robes."

"I just ordered new robes," Hermione said. "All I really need are my books and things from Flourish and Blotts..."

"Ginny needs robes," Harry said.

"Harry, I..."

"Hush," he said.

"But my Mum..."

"Ginny," he looked into her eyes. Hers flared for a moment, but she didn't say anything more.

So they headed for Madame Malkin's, and Harry quickly chose new school robes, several school uniforms and a new set of dress robes. Hermione and Ginny, with Petunia watching, were sorting through the racks.

"I can't spend this much!" Ginny wailed quietly, not realizing that Harry was standing directly behind them.

"Harry's pretty determined, Ginny," Hermione's back was also to him.

"But my Mum..."

"Never mind your Mum," Harry said.

"Harry..." Ginny turned, surprised.

"Look, let's just have some fun, okay? Just try on some things, and show me what you like."

Ginny's eyes looked longingly at the robes.

"No buying?" she said, turning brown eyes on him.

"I did hear what your mum said, Gin," he said non-commitally.

So, Ginny and Hermione dove into the racks. Even Aunt Petunia had a smile on her rather thin face as she looked at the robes, quietly sorting through as she watched the girls.

Harry sat back in a comfortable leather armchair and grinned as he watched the girls model for him. Some of their choices were obviously designed to make him laugh, such as the Slytherin green robes that Ginny modeled with a Draco Malfoy signature sneer on her face, her nose pointed in the air.

The sales witch watched carefully, smiling at Harry as he gave a nod or a shake of his head.

When Ginny finally threw herself down into his lap, back in her own rather threadbare robes, exhausted, he kissed her quickly on the temple and nodded to the sales witch, who parceled up several of the robes and three school uniforms.

"Will that be all, then, Mr Potter?"

"Gin? Do you need anything else?" he asked.

"Harry!" Ginny was horrified. "You can't..."

"Can... and have," he said.

"Harry!"

"Look," Harry took out three galleons and set them on the counter. "See? I'm not spending any more than that on the clothes."

"But..."

"That'll cover it?" he asked the sales witch, who smiled and nodded.

Ginny looked at him, silenced.

"Now, what do I owe you for the rental of your store for our afternoon's amusement?"

Hermione started to laugh, and Ginny sputtered furiously as Harry handed over the additional galleons.

"Harry!"

"What? I can't take my girlfriend on a date?" he asked, flushing slightly.

"That was... sneaky."

"Well, perhaps there is some Slytherin in me, after all," he commented, turning to his aunt. He was surprised to see that she, too, held a bag. Would wonders never cease?

"You bought something?"

"I..." she flushed. "I thought I would fit in better if..."

Harry's eyes showed understanding. "You want to wear them now?"

"I..." she swallowed, obviously uncomfortable. "Yes... yes, I do."

Taking her handbag for her, Harry watched as she removed the dark blue robes from the bag and put them on. She looked regal.

"Wow, Mrs Dursley," Hermione breathed. "Those really look good on you."

"Thank you, Hermione," Aunt Petunia said, taking her bag back from Harry and almost smiling.

Silently, they headed to Olivander's.

Entering, Harry switched the Madame Malkin's bags to his left hand and removed his wand from his pocket.

"Why, Harry Potter..." Mr Olivander's voice drifted down from above. "I didn't expect to be seeing you today."

The four watched as the elderly wizard descended a ladder to floor level and turned to them.

"Hello, Mr Olivander," Harry said. "I'd like you to have a look at my wand... it's... well, it's acting oddly."

"Oddly?" Mr Olivander's eyes moved up to meet Harry's. "Odd, how?"

"Well, it's been giving off warmth," Harry admitted.

"Warmth?"

"It... gives off heat occasionally."

"Ah, yes," Mr Olivander smiled, looking at Harry over the top of his half-moon glasses. "Of course. Harry, you remember that I told you that this was a special wand?"

"Yes."

"Your wand is reacting..."

"Voldemort?"

Mr Olivander winced at the name, but turned back to Harry. "No, Mr Potter... to you."

"Me?"

"Your wand is reacting to your emotions, I would say. Take note of what is happening to you when..."

"Ah," Harry smiled uncomfortably, his cheeks warming, suddenly understanding very well. He glanced at Ginny and then back to Mr Olivander.

"You understand?" Mr Olivander said, looking into Harry's eyes, his own twinkling.

"Yes... yes, I think I do," Harry assured him, blushing. The only time he'd noticed the wand heating up was when he and Ginny were... particularly close.

"And who..." Mr Olivander paused, his eyes lighting on Aunt Petunia, standing next to the door. "Well, I would never have believed it. Petunia Evans... it has been years. Near thirty..."

"Twenty nine," she said faintly.

"You came in with your father... yew, sixteen inches..."

"Yes," Aunt Petunia cut him off.

"Whatever happened..." Mr Olivander paused, his eyes not leaving Aunt Petunia's face. "Yes... yes, I remember now."

Aunt Petunia's cheeks flushed, but her nose rose another inch in the air.

_She should have been a Gryffindor_, thought Harry.

After a moment, he nodded. "Yes, that Sorting Hat of Dumbledore's has many things to answer for, doesn't it?"

Harry saw his aunt flinch, and turned to Mr Olivander. "Mr Olivander?"

"There are many ways to decide the house a student belongs in, Mr Potter. The Sorting Hat is but one. Perhaps the most convenient, but not always, to the thinking of many, the most accurate."

"I... I'll meet you outside, Harry," she said, turning after nodding politely to the elderly wizard and removing herself from the shop.

Mr Olivander watched her go, a sad look in his eyes.

"Mr Olivander..."

"Harry," he said softly, "I knew your grandfather... and his daughters. My opinions on what happened to Petunia and Daisy Evans... well..."

"But..."

"It is the opinion of many that the presence of the Slytherin House at Hogwarts has outlived it's time, Harry Potter. It does more harm than good with it's presence there. Many sorted into Slytherin do not belong there. For those who choose that path, perhaps Durmstrang might be a better choice all around."

"You don't think that my aunt..."

"She was a lively little witch, Harry. She and Daisy both. While Daisy had more courage than sense, Petunia knew what she wanted from life... the Sorting Hat interpreted that one way... I do not believe that it is infallible, Harry, and perhaps, neither should you."

Harry considered this as they joined his aunt on the walk in front of the shop.

"All right," he said, attempting to lighten the mood. "Books, then Fortescue's for ice cream. We should have time before we have to meet your Mum, Gin."

While Ginny and Hermione chatted, Harry kept a close eye on his aunt. She was quiet, and a couple of times he watched as a person here or there caught her attention for a moment or two.

"Aunt Petunia? Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine, Harry. Get your books."

They completed their shopping, then Harry treated them to ice cream at Fortescue's. He smiled as he watched his aunt eyeing the chocolate frogs and ice mice on the counter top.

"You liked them?" he asked.

"Daisy did," she said, her voice soft with memories. "I never had the sweet tooth that she and Lily did..."

Realizing what she had said, she silenced, turning back to her dish of plain vanilla ice cream that Harry had placed before her. "Thank you, Harry."

"You're welcome, Aunt Petunia."

Glancing over to where Ginny and Hermione were just taking their ice cream from the wizard behind the counter, she turned back to Harry.

"She would have liked you," she said.

"Who?"

"Daisy. You're very much like her."

"More courage than sense?' Harry asked, remembering Mr Olivander's words.

"No. Resilient," she replied.

Harry was stopped from saying anything more by Ginny and Hermione's laughing arrival at the table, but he had rather a lot to think about.

They finished their ice cream, and headed back to Fred and George's shop to meet Molly, all of them tired from the eventful afternoon. Ginny and Hermione in the lead, Harry, weighed down with their packages, next to his aunt behind.

"What happened to it?" he asked suddenly, colouring when he realized that he's spoken his thoughts out loud.

"What?" she asked.

"Yew. Sixteen inches."

She colored. "My father took it when I returned home. I assume it was turned in to the Ministry."

"And... Aunt Daisy's?"

"They... never found it... in the forest."

"Where is she buried?" he asked gently, knowing he was probably pushing her limits, but needing to know. He didn't even know where his grandparents were buried.

"She's not," Petunia's voice was strained.

"She's not?"

"They never found her, either."

At that, she gave him an anguished look and followed the girls into the shop.

Leaving Harry to follow, silently, behind.

* * *

_Okay, this is new. For the very first time in my life, at least to my knowledge, I've been given up for Lent. I don't know whether to be disappointed or honored. _

_CQ_

_**Shotgunn:** Watch who you're calling "American" there, Sparky... I'm Canadian, I'll have you know! As for the British-isms... my grandparents were British, my best friend is British, and I spent a lot of my "formative" years around her and her family, and I married a Brit... why am I telling you this? You KNOW this about me! In any case, I would assume that that is where my ability to write believable dialog comes from. As to why there is always a scene where Harry has to confront the Weasley males, I would assume it's because those scenes are so much fun to write! _

_**CannonFodder:** Glad you're enjoying it... I love writing H/G!_

_**Lourdes:** No worries... Petunia and Vernon Dursley deserve each other. _

_**GeeUnit:** No... Ginny was asleep upstairs... Harry was waiting for her in the den, watching for her to come down._

_**RedBessRackham:** You know, ever since I read the part with the howler, I've wondered about her. Well, that and the part where she knew what Dementors were... shocked Vernon, but it shocked me more. I am absolutely certain that there is something more there than has been given yet in canon. I also think that Harry sometimes sees people and judges them based on an ideology that I doubt most people could live up to. He needs to see that no one is black or white – and Petunia seemed like the perfect person to demonstrate that to him._

_**Jen:** Ginny's relationship with her brothers is something that I think gives plenty of scope for a fanfic author. Maybe it's because there are just so many of them!_

_**TopQuark:** Death and dismemberment, huh? You and Larna Mandrea need to talk..._

_**PCB:** Oh, Harry is very lucky... he has no idea!_

_**Weselan:** Well, if nothing else, Harry's life will never be boring. But, of course, he's never really had a boring life, now has he? At least not since attending Hogwarts._

_**Larna Mandrea:** NO! You're not allowed to leave! What will I do without your reviews? HOW LONG HAVE I GOT, DARN IT?_

_**FroBoy:** Soon enough?_

_**Jouve25:** Why, thank you! Ginny in canon is beginning to show her tendancy to stand up to Harry and challenge him. I think that this is going to be a canon element, whether JKR takes it towards a romantic interest or not, and I really like portraying Ginny that way: mischeivious, daring, and determined!_

_**Froggy:** I am a FAITHFUL H/G, R/Hr shipper... even if it doesn't look like it in the beginning sometimes. I think that R/Hr is DEFINITELY canon (JKR has said she can't believe that people need MORE hints on this!) and H/G, should the plan for Harry be to survive, feels right. Ginny challenges him in ways that no one else dares, they share a common experience (exposure to Tom Riddle)... etc. So, I know that others here are not as convinced as I, but that's the way I see it._

_**KudoRan:** The Weasleys would eat them alive._

_**Kordolin:** Here's more!_

_**Thunder'sShadow:** Don't worry, Dumbledore is learning... quite quickly, actually!_

_**Merlindamage:** Don't worry, we will... Petunia is just part one of the story..._

_**Kazziedal:** I can believe it... Ginny is nothing if not "trouble" with a capital "T"..._

_**lmilll23:** Nah... Petunia still has issues of her own. _

_**YelloWitchGrl:** I can't stand reading something with spelling, grammatical, and punctuation errors. Drives me insane... And netspeak makes me close a story quicker than quick. The only other reason I would stop reading (besides pure bad writing) is when people INCESSANTLY describe every article of clothing that Hermione and/or Ginny are wearing. I'm absolutely certain that Hogwarts has a dress code, and I'm equally certain it doesn't include baby tees and super-low-rise jeans. Drives me nuts._

_**MedievalWoman:** Never fear, even I'm not creative enough to take on writing a scene like that..._

_**Bobboky:** I will! That sounds like a WONDERFUL idea! And because you've already told me to use it, I have no qualms whatsoever about shamelessly stealing it. Ask James Milamber about my shamelessly lifting ideas... he's an old hand at keeping me in line!_

_**Nimbirosa:** Dudley wouldn't know what hit him... and I'm not sure who he would have to be more careful around, Harry or Ginny... _

_**Agloechen:** Ginny's brothers are fun to write... they're so singleminded!_

_**Omeganian:** I changed it, because I thought it was PG13 – but I was mistaken. It's as risque as it's getting, actually, but I have a feeling the sequel will be rated "R"..._

_**ImaQuidditchFan:** Someone has to teach Harry to have fun... and learn to laugh at himself, and not take life so seriously, and... well, you get the picture. I have a feeling Ginny might be that person._

_**RyougaZell:** Yes, I think that Ginny will be rather a dichotomy for Harry... some things she'll make much easier, and some things are going to be an absolute nightmare (for him) to get through... but if she intends for him to go through it, he will!_

_**MrsAliciaWeasley:** Oh, they had a relationship... but it wasn't anything so serious that Petunia would have had a problem accepting invitations from Vernon Dursley. I think that Remus thought that they were a lot more serious than Petty did... I think she believed that he didn't mean the things he said at the time, for whatever reason._

_**SabineStrohemMoss:** Harry and Dumbledore BOTH have things to learn, actually..._

_**Nightwing509:** Thanks, it seemed like rather a private moment to me... Ginny shouldn't be getting her first REAL present from Harry in front of everyone, I think!_

_**IndiaInk:** Yes, Embarrassed!Harry is so much fun to write! _


	12. Chapter Twelve: Letting Go

Chapter Twelve: Letting Go

Molly Weasley was very, very upset when she saw the number of bags that they carried with Madame Malkin's shop logo on them, and realized that some, at least, were Ginny's.

"Harry, I told you..."

"I only spent three galleons on Ginny's clothes," Harry said, rather sharper than he would have meant to, had he not just had that very disturbing conversation with his aunt.

"There is no possible way that..." Molly was working up a good head of steam.

"Don't argue with him, Mrs Weasley," Hermione said. "You won't win this one."

"Ginevra! I _told _you..."

"I _know_, Mum!"

"Mrs Weasley, Madame Malkin and I worked out a deal. The girls kept me entertained for an hour trying things on, and I paid for the privilege of using her shop and clothes. They threw in the clothes for free."

Molly spluttered. "You... I... that's _very_ sneaky, Harry Potter!"

Fred and George looked on with something approaching awe. Few could get past Molly.

But all were distracted by the sudden arrival of Ron, closely followed by Bill, and carrying what seemed to be dozens of bags.

Ron was glowing.

"Thanks, Mum!" he cried, throwing his arms around her. Molly smiled at the happiness of her youngest son, promptly forgetting the argument she'd been having with Harry. If nothing else, Molly could easily be distracted with the happiness of one of her children.

* * *

Returning to Potter Manor via the floo, his arm around his aunt, Harry smiled. It had been a surprising, and rewarding, day.

As Harry carried their bags upstairs upon their return, his aunt walked next to him up the stairs and down the hallway.

"Why do..."

"What?" Harry prompted. He'd certainly asked her some uncomfortable questions that day. As far as he was concerned, she had every right to ask him things, as well.

"Everyone looked at you... in Diagon Alley. Mr Olivander spoke... well, he spoke as though he knew you well. The goblins at Gringotts..."

Harry was silent. She still didn't understand.

"Everyone... knows you. Why?"

"Yes. Lovely, isn't it?" he said, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

"Why?" she repeated.

"I told you," he paused at the door to his own room. "I told you. I'm the one. I'm the one they all look to... I'm the Boy who Lived."

* * *

After dinner, Harry followed Ron, Hermione and Ginny into the den. Sitting in here had become a bit of a habit. It was quiet, and away from everyone else.

Hermione had brought a muggle catalog from her room earlier, and she and Ginny sat next to each other on the sofa, paging through it.

"You know, Harry, you could do with some new jeans and things," Hermione commented.

"What?" he looked down at his ill-fitting jeans and sweatshirt. He'd gotten into the habit of wearing things left from Dudley, and these were no exception.

"I mean, you can't go on wearing your school uniforms all the time, and those clothes..."

Ron looked at Harry and shrugged.

"They're clothes... they cover me. What's the difference?"

"The difference is that everyone looks at you because of who you are..."

Harry snorted.

"No, Harry... let me finish. You can't stop them from doing that and you need... if you're planning on having a career..."

"A career?" Harry laughed. "Mione, I'll be lucky if I survive Voldemort."

This was met with silence.

"What?" he said. "You know it's true!"

"Yeah, mate... but..." Ron began.

"But we don't like reminding of it," Ginny said softly. "And it shouldn't dictate your life, Harry."

Harry sighed, flopping down next to Ginny and looking at her. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about," she replied. "But I don't believe for one minute that you're going to face him and not kick his arse, so can we please live our lives knowing that we have a future together?"

Harry paled. Ginny Weasley wanted a _future_ with him? How did he do this without making a complete balls-up of it? How...

"Tell you what, Gin," he said. "You know I have little to no idea of what I need. If Hermione's catalog has what you think I should have, buy it, okay?"

"And if it doesn't?"

"I'll see if we can plan a trip into muggle London before heading back to Hogwarts. But I wouldn't count on it."

Ginny smiled and nodded, turning back to the catalog and Hermione.

Harry sighed and looked at Ron, who shrugged again and went back to his Quidditch magazine. Harry was just as happy that Ron didn't want to talk. He had a lot to think about.

* * *

Between Hermione and Ginny, Harry found himself with a new muggle wardrobe by the end of the week. Never having had clothes that actually fit properly beyond his school uniforms, he felt almost exposed by the jumpers and jeans that the girls had picked out, but when he objected, they laughed him off.

"Check out Dean and Seamus sometime, Harry..."

"I don't make a habit out of checking out other blokes, thank you very much, Mione!"

Hermione laughed. "That's not what I mean, Harry. Don't boys notice what other boys are wearing?"

Harry and Ron exchanged glances, and then replied. "No."

"Boys!" Hermione said, as thought disgusted with the lot of them. "Look, this stuff fits you perfectly..."

Harry looked over at Ginny who was already hanging his new clothes in his closet.

"You've a nice bum, Harry," she smiled cheekily. "About time you started showing it off."

"Bloody hell," he said under his breath, shaking his head, his cheeks turning pink.

Women.

* * *

Saturday night, they were playing Wizard's Chess in the lounge when Dumbledore arrived.

"Harry, may I speak to you for a moment?"

Harry followed the headmaster into the den, concern clouding his eyes when Dumbledore closed the door behind them with a rather distracted flick of his wrist.

"Professor?"

"Harry, I've spoken to Vernon Dursley."

"And?"

"It was... at first, he refused. It would appear that he and your aunt had rather a... disagreement... over her coming here..."

"No doubt," Harry said. "Not unexpected, anyhow."

"Harry, your uncle has decided..."

"What?"

"He's insisting that if they must come, that they be... reimbursed... if you will."

"Reimbursed? For what?"

"Your time with them."

"Excuse me?"

"He says that they were never offered remuneration..."

"_Remuneration?_"

"It's somehow occurred to him that..."

"Son of a..." Harry cursed, pacing in front of the fire. "What does he want?"

"Well..."

"How _much_, Professor?"

"Well, in galleons, it would work out to be a little over a thousand..."

"That son of a bitch!"

"Harry..."

"I..." Harry moved to the door, flinging it open and stalking through in the direction of the lounge. Dumbledore followed helplessly.

"Harry?" Arthur looked up at him, his expression showing his surprise at the look on Harry's face.

"Mione... I could use some..."

"Harry? What is it?"

"Hermione, something you said to me the other day has made me realize that I need to... start thinking about the future. About after..."

"What? Harry, what on earth has happened?" Hermione's concerned eyes, and those of Ron and Ginny as well, searched his face.

"Hermione, what is the equivalent of a lawyer in the magical world?"

"Well, the ministry employs advisors, Harry, but most legal issues in the magical world are decided upon by a tribunal..."

"So who represents the wizards?"

"Generally, someone like Dumbledore did when you went in front of the Wizengamut... Harry...?"

"What about civil matters?"

"Civil matters?" Hermione thought for a moment. "There's really no... equivalent here, Harry. It's more... well, if there are disagreements, they're generally either worked out privately or..."

"Great," Harry said, getting the idea. "Just great."

"Harry?" Arthur looked curiously at him. "What is going on?"

"My bloody uncle has decided to try a spot of extortion."

"What?" Bill stood, a very angry look on his face.

"I suppose," Harry said, turning to Dumbledore, "that the Ministry would take a dim view of my destroying the son of a..."

"Harry!" Molly exclaimed.

"Yes, I'm sure that they would," Dumbledore agreed, a hint of a smile in his old eyes. "I'm sure it would be frowned upon."

"Why...?" Ron looked at him, confused.

"I wanted him to come... to bring Dudley. My aunt misses them," Harry explained gruffly. "His price to come is one thousand galleons."

Hermione gasped., Arthur sat back in his chair stunned, Bill growled, and the others were all silently shocked. Aunt Petunia wasn't in the room, but Harry would have been interested in her reaction.

"I believe, Harry, that your uncle believes you cannot arrange this, thus exonerating him from the responsibility of refusing outright."

"So you think I should pay..."

"Harry!" Ginny cried. "No!"

"I do not have an opinion either way, Harry," Dumbledore said, his eyes not leaving Harry's. "You must decide what you want."

"Harry..." Bill began.

"Bill, will it endanger the wards to bring Muggles through?'" he asked.

"Not in theory, Harry..."

"In theory," Harry snorted. "Right."

Harry silently paced. Again, so much to think about.

"Harry, you can't..." Hermione was horrified that he would even consider it.

"Dumbledore, was he serious?"

"He seriously thought you didn't have the means, Harry. Of that I can assure you. His suggestion was that your... friends... should attempt to scrape up the necessary funds between them..."

"Arrogant berk," Harry said in an undertone.

"Harry, do you really think it wise..." Arthur began, looking uncomfortable.

"Mr Weasley... I think..." Harry sighed, realizing what he was doing. He looked around the room at all the people he cared so much about. The one person he said he wanted to do this for wasn't even present. "No. You're right. This isn't wise."

There was a collective sigh.

"But I want the son of a bitch to see this... all of this... what they..."

"Revenge, Harry, is not always the best idea..."

"No, but it's bloody powerful," Harry said. "The question is not if I feel like paying for the privilege of his company. It's what I'm willing to pay to see the look on his face when he realizes..."

"Harry," Hermione said softly. "Let it go. It's just not worth it."

Harry turned his eyes to Ginny. She nearly cried at the expression in them. He was still so much the little boy who only wanted a family, someone to love him.

"Harry, you can't give her what she would need to become the person she should have been to you," she pointed out in her most gentle voice. "It's not in her, and you know that."

"Gin..."

"Harry, you've managed to achieve peace with her. Isn't that enough?"

"No," he said. "But I'm not going to get anything more, am I?"

"No," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "I don't think you are. At least, not from her."

He looked at her, knowing she was right. Sighing, he nodded. He understood now. No one was perfectly good or perfectly evil. There was no black and white, and sometimes, people really were incapable of living up to other's expectations of them, no matter the incentive, or the number of opportunities.

He'd never had a mother, at least, not until Molly Weasley entered his life. Molly was wonderful, but even she wasn't perfect. She was overprotective, and prideful. She nagged, and she had a stubborn streak a mile wide. She sometimes failed to understand that she didn't always know what was best for everyone.

It really had nothing to do with being a good mother or otherwise... it all came down to love.

Molly Weasley had a capacity to love him that Petunia Dursley simply had not had. Perhaps their life experiences had dictated that, or perhaps they were born that way. But Harry knew, going forward, that it was his decision what to reach for.

And Ginny Weasley filled most of his needs.

He turned to Dumbledore.

"Let her go home, Professor. She doesn't belong here."

"Harry... she needs to be close to you..."

"That is utter rot and you know it," Harry turned angry eyes on the aging headmaster. The others in the room gasped.

"Harry?"

"Stop lying to me, Dumbledore!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I know full well that it's not me you're trying to save. I know full well that you've been trying, for years, to get Aunt Petunia to admit that she's part of this world... to stop turning her back on it. It's not going to happen, so please, just accept that, and stop making her life, and mine, more of a hell than it already is! I mean, she's made her choice... let her live with it, and stop tearing her apart!

"Harry, do you know what happens to Luds?" Dumbledore asked softly.

"They go slowly insane from your constant interference?" Harry said sharply.

Dumbledore smiled. "Most are... those who choose to live wholly in the muggle world generally have their memories wiped... obliviated..."

"Then maybe that would be what is best for her."

"She would have no memory of this world, Harry. Of you, of your mother or Daisy... of her parents."

"So? What are the memories doing for her besides making her miserable?"

"Harry, the choices that your aunt has made in her life have been based on these experiences. Her marriage, the way she's raised your cousin... how happy do you think she'd be if those reasons disappeared?"

"I don't know, Professor... but I know that she's bloody miserable right now, and I know that it should be _her_ decision. You've played with her life... and mine. Sixteen years ago, it would have been better if you'd wiped her memory and placed me with a wizarding family."

"Hindsight is always so very clear, Harry," the old headmaster's voice was resigned.

"Just stop," Harry said, his voice calmer now. "Stop trying to play God with people's lives. She's a human being, Dumbledore... she's an adult, let her live her life as she chooses. Give her the choice!"

Dumbledore looked at Harry for so long, Harry thought he would refuse. But the old man surprised him. Again.

"Very well, Harry. Perhaps it is time I let go of my... well. I will speak to your aunt."

"No, you won't," Harry's voice was firm. "I will."

* * *

Harry did speak to her, that afternoon, Ginny at his side. Petunia sat in front of the fire, staring at her dead sister's portrait as he spoke.

"It's over, Aunt Petunia. I'm sorry... Dumbledore is an interfering..."

"He was trying to make amends, Harry," she said sadly, her eyes not leaving those of her sister.

"Amends?"

It was a moment before her grey eyes met his green ones. He was surprised by the tears he saw there.

"For giving up on Daisy."

"What?"

"He never gave up on me because... I accused him of giving up on Daisy. For calling off the search. That was why I left Hogwarts. Because they gave up looking for her. It's why he refused to leave me alone... refused to give up on me..."

Harry was stunned. He'd had no idea.

"It's been nearly thirty years, Harry. I've accepted..."

"Aunt Petunia..."

"No. I need to... I need to think. Alone. I'll talk to you... later."

And she went, and Harry turned horrified eyes to Ginny.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Harry."

"But... she's like that because... because..."

Ginny comforted him, pulling him close and wrapping him tightly in her arms. "You can't change the past, Harry. Please don't try."

* * *

_**Jouve25:** You know, you're the only one who picked up on that... or at least, who commented on it!_

_**Shotgunn:** Hmmm... yes... April 9th, as I remember..._

_**Butterflygirl1515:** Yes, that was what I wanted to do... because situations and people are never one thing or the other... _

_**Kazziedal:** I actually do believe that H/G will end together in canon... assuming that JKR goes there at all._

_**Weselan:** All shall be revealed... perhaps in the sequel?_

_**Cannonfodder:** Yes... rather. She's one of my top reviewers... I'm going to miss her!_

_**GiGiFanfic:** I have to admit, scenes from my rather strict upbringing rose up when I read this... then I laughed. I figure if anyone can manage to stay away from here for Lent, they deserve my undying support... it's become rather a compulsion for me – good or bad – and I admire anyone who could consider avoiding it for 40 days... I think I'd have to be in a coma!_

_**Larna Mandrea:** I wish you luck, my dear. I sure as heck couldn't do it..._

_**Thunder's Shadow:** Nope... as you probably realize from reading this chapter!_

_**Bklynbecca:** You know, I have no idea... I don't think I have ever heard how muggles get into Diagon Alley to shop for the things their magical children need... and we know they DO get in, because Hermione's parents were in the shop before second year..._

_**MysticRuby:** Hmmm... good point..._

_**Nimbirosa:** He rented the shop instead of paying for the clothes... a little "arrangement" he apparently worked out with the shop keeper. Hey, if it got around Molly, right?_

_**Treck:** Well, we shall see, hmmm? _

_**Slipofathing:** I really like strong!Ginny, and mischievious!Ginny... absolutely, because that is the way I see her going in canon. I really like showing the actions of her protective older brothers... for three reasons: one, the Weasley family IS protective of her; two, I think there is a lot of comedic relief in these scenes, and; three, I grew up the youngest girl with five protective older brothers... and it's something I find I can write convincingly – as they say, "write what you know". As for Fred and George... I'm not into Fred and George stories... they're funny and interesting characters to write, but I only see them as "supporting roles". I remind you that I am, in fact, writing fanfiction... it's all about taking the bits you like and expanding on them, as I see it._

_**And to all the others, thank you:** Kittiesrule878, Lady of Masbolle, Dante Lewis, FroBoy, MedievalWoman, IcePhoenixTears, Xyvortex, Beornthryth, Bobboky, Merlindamage, Kordolin, ImaQuidditchFan, RyougaZell, Nightwing509, SabineStrohemMoss_

_CQ_


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Rainbows

_Okay – last one... and time to give up my secret. This story started as an exploration of Harry's view of Petunia and how that predisposed him to believe his first impressions of everyone else. Petunia is NOT a very nice person, but she's not a particularly evil person, either. Everyone has the capacity to do nasty things... and I really wanted to explore WHY Petunia was like that – and perhaps, more importantly, give Harry a little understanding that things are not simply black or white... JKR has given rather broad hints that there is more to Harry's aunt than we have so far seen, and I do not believe that that much bitterness comes from having a "special" sibling! I really believe that Petunia was part of this world, and her rejection of Harry is significant to her rejection of all things magical._

_Now – for the secret. This story has only ever been considered (by me) a prequel to the main event – a full length (I heard that, Shotgunn) seventh year fic. I tend to rush through my stories, so this is going to be a lesson in patience for me – and I'm going to desperately try to make it more than 30 chapters. There will be the possibility of death and dismemberment for those of you who have begged me for that... there will be adventure, there will be confrontations with Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself... and there will be blatant, mushy, cliched fluff between our favorites... not just Harry and Ginny (although that will definitely be the main ship... I **AM** me, after all!), but Ron and Hermione, as well. And perhaps now that Remus has put the past behind him we may even see him exploring his options! The key here is, this is not the end... it is merely the beginning, the "warm up" if you will. I am giving it an "R" rating, and please, if this bothers you, just enjoy this prequel and move on... because I do believe that the seventh year is going to be rather darker – and while JKR will have to keep hers reasonably innocent, I – thankfully – will not be so restricted._

_I love doing this – I love writing, and in JKR's world, I have found characters who are both fun and rewarding to write, and reviewers who make it worthwhile, feed my muse, and push me to be better. Thank you, thank you, thank you - each and every one of you - for making me stretch myself in my writing, and learn new things about myself as I do._

_CQ_

_

* * *

_

Chapter Thirteen: Rainbows

Petunia Dursley walked next to the lake, and Remus Lupin watched her closely. She didn't carry herself in the same way. She used to be regal... prideful. But years had turned that into stiffness.

She wasn't the same Petty that he, James and Sirius had delighted in teasing mercilessly, who had looked down her nose at them, whom Lily had gently protected from their more rambunctious needling. Whom he had cared for... she wasn't even the same Petty who had walked away from him.

She'd changed. He supposed that life with Vernon Dursley would change anyone. It made him wonder what kind of person Harry would be without his years of living and growing in the Dursley household.

"Petunia?" he called as he approached, not wishing to startle her. She stilled and watched him come, looking into his eyes until he stopped in front of her.

"I'm happy with my life, Remus."

Remus was mildly surprised at this strange greeting, but nodded, understanding. They were past polite greetings now.

"I know you are."

"I love Vernon... he's not an easy man to love... but I do."

"I know."

She looked out over the lake. "Lily was ashamed of me."

"No. Lily loved you. She wanted you to be as happy as she was. She just couldn't see that happening with Vernon Dursley."

"She didn't know him."

Remus looked at her for a moment, then sighed. "Go home, Petty. Live your life. Forget we exist. Harry will be fine."

Tears came to her eyes. "Don't hate me, Remus."

"I don't hate you, Petty. I'm disappointed in some of the choices you've made. I'm angry for Harry, because he didn't deserve what you gave him... I'm sorry for you."

She turned alarmed eyes up to look at him.

"He's a wonderful young man, Petunia. He has the best of Lily in him... but you've missed that entirely by following Vernon's lead."

"I'm beginning to realize that."

"But you've made your choices."

"Yes."

"So go," Remus said. "Go home."

Nodding, she took one last look at him before turning and making her way back to the house.

* * *

Harry turned towards the door of the den, which had just opened. The late evening light from the windows showed Dumbledore standing there, in his wizards robes, and behind him, looking surly and unkempt, stood Severus Snape. Bringing up the rear, was Minerva McGonagall.

"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore nodded.

Harry's head turned quickly at a soft sound to see his aunt, her face white, place a hand on the wall to steady herself.

Aunt Petunia knew _Snape_? How on earth...

"Petunia... you are indeed looking..." Snape's eyes flicked to Harry, the expression there telling Harry that this was about the last thing Snape wished Harry to witness. Harry looked on with interest. "...well."

"Aunt Petunia? Are you...?"

"Fine, Harry. I'm fine. Just... surprised. Professor McGonagall... how... nice to see you again."

Minerva McGonagall's eyebrows rose in an expression that Harry had seen many times. She was especially fond of using it on first and second years who were stretching the truth when explaining why they were out of their dorms in the middle of the night.

"Petunia," Dumbledore said, "I assume that you are prepared to leave now?"

"I... yes."

"Let us... go then."

"Harry?" Aunt Petunia's voice trembled. "I... be careful, and... here."

He turned, looking at his aunt. She held out something. When Harry took it, he realized it was the magical chain she'd worn around her neck for years. The one with the Evans family vault key.

"I... your mother would be proud of you, Harry. So would Daisy."

"Thank you," he said automatically, staring down at the chain in his hand, then looking up at her solemnly. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia."

"Come," Dumbledore took her arm. "It is time to go."

"Of course... I... yes." She nodded nervously.

"Place your hand on my arm... Severus, the bags. Here we go, then."

For a moment, Harry's aunt wavered as though being viewed through a water glass... then, with a loud pop, they were gone.

Ginny pulled him close, hugging him silently. He clung to her. He was at peace with the fact that Petunia Dursley was gone from his life. He had Ginny, and her family... and the family he had made here. He didn't need more.

"Harry?" Molly's voice came from the doorway. Harry looked up to find Molly and Arthur entering the room, Ron and Hermione looking in from the hall.

"Thank you..." Harry nodded, reaching for the cup of tea she offered him.

It was a full five minutes before Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall returned. Snape followed a moment later.

"Molly, Arthur... how nice. Molly, I would adore a cup of tea, do you think...?

"Of course, Albus."

"Harry..."

"Sir?" Harry looked between Dumbledore and Snape, and wondered what was going on. And why had Snape taken longer to return than the others?

"Headmaster, if you do not require my..." Snape began, only to be interrupted by Professor Dumbledore.

"Oh, no, Severus. You are part of this now, too. Your presence is most definitely required."

Harry thought he saw a look of surprise on Snape's face, but he hid it quickly beneath a scowl, and then stalked to the window where he stood with his back to the room.

"Sir..."

"All in good time, Harry. All in good time. Ah, thank you, Molly..." he accepted a steaming cup from her. "Harry, I must ask you some questions, and it is very important that you answer them as truthfully as you can."

"Of course, Professor, I wouldn't lie..."

Snape snorted. Harry glanced his way to find him still standing with his back to the room, hands clasped behind him, and his long black robes brushing the floor. Harry turned back to Dumbledore.

"Harry, in the years that you lived with the Dursley family, did it ever occur to you that they, any of them, might have... magic of their own?"

Harry laughed. "No, no sir, not at all."

"Looking back, can you recall any time at all, any thing that might have happened, that might now be explained by the use of magic?"

"No, sir. Nothing."

"What about your cousin, Dudley? Ever any indication that he was..."

"Dudley Dursley is not a wizard, sir. I can assure you of that."

Dumbledore's gaze was riveted on him for a moment, before he suddenly turned away.

"Headmaster, we should..." Snape began.

"Yes, of course, Severus. Harry... we must tell you what happened at the Dursley family home just now..."

"Aunt Petunia...? She's okay?" Harry's attention was suddenly fully back on the headmaster.

"Yes, yes, Harry, she's fine. However..."

Harry looked from Professor Dumbledore to Snape.

"What did he do to her? Uncle Vernon... he's done something to her..."

"A memory charm has been performed on Dudley and Vernon Dursley, wiping you from their memories. If they ever do think about Petunia having had a sister, and that that sister had a family, they will believe that you died with your parents in a car accident some years ago."

"Aunt Petunia?"

"She's fine, Harry... she requested that we leave her with her memories. She has agreed that Vernon and Dudley would not benefit from remembering your presence, but she... requested to be left alone. And I will respect her wishes."

Harry sighed. Perhaps it was close to being over, now.

* * *

"Hey, there," Ginny wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. "What are you doing out here?"

"Thinking," he said. Her sleep-warmed body pressing against him felt good in the pre-dawn chill – she must have just come from her bed.

They would return to Hogwarts today for his seventh and final year.

"About?"

"It's been an... eventful summer."

"That it has," he felt her grin against his back. Turning, he pulled her close and hugged her tightly.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what, exactly?"

"For helping me to see that it's not all black and white. Nothing is black or white... it's all shades of grey."

"Oh, Harry," she looked up at him with shining eyes. At that moment, the sun broke the horizon and she smiled, and he caught his breath, realizing once again how very lucky he was that this beautiful witch had chosen him.

"It's not!" Ginny said softly, her eyes searching his. "It's not grey, Harry. It's a rainbow."

_FINIS_

_

* * *

_

_**QueenVictoria:** Hawaii? How I WISH I were in Hawaii... it's darned cold here today!_

_**Nimbirosa:** I'll be sending out good thoughts for those sniffles to go away permanently._

_**Merlindamage:** Isn't it, though? I hate Vernon._

_**ImaQuidditchFan:** Second thoughts? Hmm... there's a possible plotline. Really, though, would I do that to you? To him? To Ginny? Well, yes, probably... but I don't expect so. Their relationship may not be smooth sailing (come on, would that be ANY fun?) but they are together, indeed!_

_**Allison:** I would assume that Dumbledore was sure she wasn't coming back, if he called off the search... wouldn't you?_

_**Thunder's Shadow:** I always have the story completely planned out.. then my muse laughs in my face and we go in whatever direction she deems necessary for as LONG as she deems necessary. I start every story with a grid... and work up what is in each chapter, in each theme, and go from there. I generally end up with about three times as many chapters, some things get expanded on, some things get added, and some things, which I think are really good ideas in the planning stage, never make it to the end product. That's the sound of my muse laughing hysterically at me._

_**SaerrySnape:** See? I live for that – making people say things they'd never DREAM of saying!_

_**Lourdes:** But he does it so charmingly! _

_**Jouve25:** That's exactly right!_

_**Hye Em Yes:** Hey, good way to look at it! Mmmmm, chocolate..._

_**Weselan:** I'm assuming that it's a reasonable thing to do, wiping memories of the existence of a person... after all, the aurors do memory modification on muggles all the time, right?_

_**Bklynbecca:** Harry is seventeen in this. He's changed. He's been through a lot, knows he has more to go through, and is tired of having to deal with that and the added pressure of Dumbledore not being truthful with him. He's tired of it, and he's had enough. In canon, up until now, we've seen an adolescent. I truly believe that in the next two Rowling books, we're going to see a very different Harry... or at least, the beginning of a new Harry emerging._

_**And to all the others, thank you:** Wolfsscream, Kordolin, DavidMPotter, Starnat, JT, Lady Urquentha, MysticRuby, CannonFodder, IndiaInk, Kazziedal, Nightwing509, Bobboky, RyougaZell, MedievalWoman, GeeUnit_


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